One puts gloves on one’s greedy fingers. Lord help him! he's the very image of his father. Mrs. The stretch of red dirt disappeared into a stretch of trees like Van Gogh’s painting. . He sat alone in his brother’s old car night after night that summer, staring blankly at the red sky beyond the abandoned farmhouse where she had once shown him her secrets. She thought she had hidden well from him. And it filled seven sheets of notepaper, each written only on one side.
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