I stare at the
cupcake in the window. The brown flake looks like a little train coming out of
a tunnel. The smooth, creamy icing swirls over the flake making the tunnel.
There are two men waving sticks. I imagined them to be telling the train to
stop so it didn't go over the edge. I wish someone had done that to me. Told me
to stop before I ran over the edge. I as soon as I
ran over the edge
my whole life fell apart. I lost my home, my parents and my best friend. My
only friend.
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