This is the last in an occasional series titled Chiraq
OPINION
Farewell to Chiraq. I never loved you.
You are not my city. Never my kind of town. Not the one I was born in. Not the one I remember growing up as a little boy.
I remember Chicago. … That glistening city where a winter’s wind on bitter-cold days licked that frozen lake, frosting everything in its path, turning even mustaches into white ice. And yet, everything still felt just right.
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