Below Zero
The trailer sat at the end of a row of trailers in a park off I-75 outside Detroit. It was beige. It had always been beige. Ruthie couldn't remember a time when it wasn't beige. The heater was broken again. She could see her breath in the kitchen while she made coffee. The coffee was instant. It tasted like it had been sitting on the burner since yesterday. Ruthie Calloway was nineteen years...
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