Fiction | December 01, 2001

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“The first step he took was his first step toward the penitentiary,” Pam liked to joke about her son, Avery, during the year that she and Avery lived next door to me in Sea Coast Villiage, which sounds like a prettier place than it was.  It was a strip of poverty down in the Florida Panhandle near the ocean, shortly before that part of the coastline was developed.

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