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June 21, 2012
I left the apartment, locking the door from the inside. There was a click, and with that I closed the screen door gently, so it wouldn't slam. Almost immediately, I was in the enclosed landing, walking down the creaky steps. The dusty morning sun made its way through the window, and the small gaps between the push doors downstairs. I no longer questioned which door would lead me to my car fastest. In the driver seat, it smelled musky, sweet and smoky around the edges. It was my dad's odor that I remembered from growing up. Only now it's mine.