Lori Anderson

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Being ten. In a lot of ways, Lucy thought it was the perfect age. You were smart enough to understand most things when explained the right way, but still young enough not to care about things like your appearance, the opposite or same sex, life plans that preempted things like being an astronaut or princess or princess astronaut—back when magic wasn’t just possible, but how you made it through the day, from the miracle of meals to the casual assumption that your safety was somebody else’s responsibility. The only thing better than being ten was being ten during the summer, when even school ...more
Happy Doomsday
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