I walked a little slower as I hit the front door to my apartment building, pretending to wipe my tall brown boots on the flimsy floral doormat. Dana Chung's thick thighs kneaded each other as she rushed to make the door I now held open. The two paisley-patterned recyclable bags she carried swung like a wrecking-ball from side-to-side. She craned her happy almond eyes up, smiling.
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