Wherever we moved, Mother would...
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Wherever we moved, Mother would take something from the old place with her. Looking back at all the parts she stole from our past homes, it almost got to the point where we didn't need a new place at all, just walls to hold all the pieces together. Maybe that's why she took all that random stuff -- the bathroom medicine cabinets, the curtain rods, the doorknobs, stairs (she actually took a wrought iron staircase once) -- maybe she was simply, little by little, trying to steal us a home of our own. (Hollis Gillespie, Bleachy-Haired Honky Bitch: Tales from a Bad Neighborhood, [New York: Regan Books, 2004])
