When I was a child, I had a place that I loved dearly. I would go there every chance I got. I’d pack a sandwich and a pop and head off into the woods. There was an old, gravel path, the only thing left of what was once a road, that lead me right to my spot. It was an old, abandoned church that was built sometime in the late 1800’s. I would go there to play. Occasionally, I would play with my friends there, but I mostly went there to think. I can still remember my odd desire to go out into the woods to the church, and my friends’ repugnance toward it.
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