My Life Isn’t a Revolving Door

Life Isn't a Revolving Door

I remember my cousins and I going outside and playing for a while. For some reason, we’d come back inside, for something to drink maybe or to use the bathroom. We’d go back outside, come back in, go back out, come back in. Finally, my mother or grandmother would say, “Either stay out or stay in. Leave that door alone.”

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