her afghan angels
Aug 27, 2020
3 minutes
BY PAUL TAMASI BELVIDERE, VERMONT
ILLUSTRATION BY NICOLAS CASTELL
I ROLLED MY CARRY-ON up to the ticket agent. At least our plane was on time. God, please. I couldn’t bear to think of losing our mother without seeing her one last time, of being able to hold her hand and tell her I loved her. But my sisters and I were 1,000 miles away, boarding an early morning flight from Boston to Atlanta.
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