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Seventeen
Out of all the numbers, 17 feels the most comfortable in my mouth.
17 feels like Thursday, which is my favorite day.
17 blows a gust of fall wind down my back and it makes the leaves turn red.
17 has three syllables, which makes perfect sense but if you asked me to explain why, I probably couldn’t.
17 leaves the sweet aftertaste of apple cider and pumpkin pie on the back of my tongue.
17 sounds like my dad telling me to come for dinner in the evening.
17 makes me hear my family laughing around the table.
17 smells like late-night bonfires.
17 is burnt orange.
I miss being 17 because it felt so right.
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