Jess Dupon

Not Gone but Often Forgotten

T he sterile smell hits me once I walk through the doors. The carpeted floor and hand sanitizer canister aren’t the only things that greet my family and me upon our entrance to the center. An old lady who sits everyday by the door welcomes us, repeating “Hi” to all the visitors, even though none of them are ever hers.

 

 

 

T he sterile smell hits me once I walk through the doors. The carpeted floor and hand sanitizer canister aren’t the only things that greet my family and me upon our entrance to the center. An old lady who sits everyday by the door welcomes us, repeating “Hi” to all the visitors, even though none of them are ever hers.

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