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May 16, 2003
At the exact same time he was trying to shake his elbow free, my father had staggered into me, causing me to pitch forward. This resulted in a less-than-delightful coincidence as now Mr. Calloway’s elbow hit my sternum, knocking me back into my father. I lay on the ground looking up – at my father glaring down in drunken “Why’d you push me?” rage; at my teacher glaring down in drunken “Why do you keep tugging me?” fury; at both of my loved ones glaring down in drunken togetherness. It was all I could do not to say “I love you.”