17
“I see Wyatt—the beautiful and the broken—and I love all of him.”—Georgia Wright
I’m not sure when the smell of bleach, wet dog fur, and the faint aroma of urine started to feel like home, but somehow, it now does. Over my travels, I’ve lived and worked among all sorts of smells, some worse than others. Some scents carry such vivid and scary memories with them that when I catch a whiff of anything similar, it takes me back to the time and place where the memories originated. I can close my eyes and imagine being there.
No matter where life takes me, bleach, wet fur, and dog urine will always bring me back here, and I hope when I think about Cooper’s Place, I’ll smile. Goodness knows, the grin I’m wearing now is evidence of the pure happiness I’m feeling here.
“I want to go alone,” I
