little plastic sleeve, and I handed it to him under the glass.
Ezoic
He took it. He held it up to the light. He turned it over. He looked at the picture. He looked at me. He looked at the picture again.
The picture was from three years ago. I’d had my hair done for it. I was wearing my blue church dress and my pearls. I looked like a nice old lady.
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Now I looked like a nice old lady who’d been rolling around in a garden. Which I was.
Ezoic
“I’ll
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