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Blisters are this author's nemesis.
I have limped on the Appalachian Trail, stumbled on tussocks in the Arctic, and hobbled across Spain on the Camino. Double blisters are the worst. They're purple, extra bubbly, and infiltrate beneath the toes.
Got a needle handy?
A gentler stomping ground is closer to home. Every day I walk the sidewalks of my neighborhood. It’s located near Boston. No blisters. No limping. The workout enables my imagination—crucial for a novelist—to run wild.
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