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When Pride Comes to Small Town, U.S.A.

Summary by DNyuz
The first time I went to Pride, I lied about where I was going. I drove about an hour from my parents’ house in central Massachusetts to the periphery of Boston’s subway lines. In the station parking lot, I swapped my modest khaki shorts for a bright red pair with a much shorter inseam and boarded a train heading downtown. When I emerged into the city, I found myself, for the first time, surrounded by a crowd of mostly queer people. The rainbow …

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