Opere Roma
The Queen of Cups A few days after I was born, my mother decided to tuck me into a very crowded recycling bin outside of a Ft. Lauderdale firehouse. It was St. Patrick’s Day, and lucky for me the guys of Ladder 35 were trying to have a very eco-friendly holiday. Esperanza, my social worker, always loved to tell me that story whenever another set of foster parents decided that I was damaged goods. On the scale of adoptable and desirable children, being an antisocial prepubescent black boy always lands you somewhere between the crack babies and the kids that play with matches....
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