I served a summer meal once, under our backyard tree on a tolerable night in July imagine a restaurant with hard of hearing patrons, packed around tables, screaming at each other, what did he say?
in my ancient days September triggered the door of free and happy to swing closed as it opened an intimidating one the return to school when friends and enemies would meet again, pick up where they
hot morning walks like this yield few people, lots of silence even there, in the shade of my mind it’s uncomfortably warm the more I think about it, has anyone said Hi ? so I press my lips focus
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