The Morning After the Will Reading, Her Lawyer Handed Me a Metal Lunchbox – Page 7

childhood in prison. By eighteen, I had aged out of the system carrying two garbage bags filled with clothes and absolutely no plan for my future.

I drifted from town to town for years after that.

Cheap apartments.

Temporary jobs.

Bosses who underpaid desperate people because they knew we had nowhere else to go.

Eventually, I landed a job at a diner called continue reading …