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I’ve worn this costume so long—walking shoes, safety vest, recorder in my pocket—I’m not sure what I’ll find when I peel it off. I will no longer be The Walker. I’ll simply be Paula, indistinguishable from every other person navigating the planet: a mother of grown daughters, a divorcee without a home or job or car, a woman without her next plan. For someone who’s comfortable with the unknown, these details now weigh on me. After all, it’s time to digest the enormity of what I’ve just done, and on this afternoon in November—I’ve just outgrown my tent.
~ Excerpt from 18 Pair of Shoes
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