My head broke during sophomore year of high school, during the winter. Pittsburgh was a dull, gray, human city full of bridges, prone to hiding the sun behind stormy clouds and bisecting family neighborhoods with four-lane highways, and as a human girl I was both annoyed and enamored with the city. The home was a hard place to love, perhaps because it was the home, and you therefore expected so much more from it, and felt its failures more acutely. Twelve inches of snow couldn’t faze even the feeblest of Pittsburgh residents, and so life went on in the winter without reasonable inconveniences
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