When I Was A Kid

I had a friend who lived a couple houses down. Her name was Jules, and we would make mud pies and play in my parents' back yard. One day she came to the front door and knocked, holding a black trash bag in her left hand. I was excited to see her and wanted to know what was in the bag. She wouldn't answer—only asked me to get my dad. I was disappointed that she wouldn't show me. My dad told me later that our cat died. Got run over. Jules saw it and scooped it into the trash bag. She gave it to my father so I would never see it. Jules never had a mom around. As she grew older, she got into drugs. I can't remember if she had a kid of her own. She was smart and kind and thoughtful, and I really hope she's okay out there.

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