In the grey foothills on the edges of Eugene, among impossibly tall trees that are older than any of us can even imagine, on a steep street that is often populated with two dozen or more wild turkeys, fat and happy with the knowledge that there are few predators to thin their numbers, is my family's house.
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“I see a vacant seat,” replied the Ghost.
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In the grey foothills on the edges of Eugene, among impossibly tall trees that are older than any of us can even imagine, on a steep street that is often populated with two dozen or more wild turkeys, fat and happy with the knowledge that there are few predators to thin their numbers, is my family's house.