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the refrigerator and the distant sound of a game show coming from his TV in the next room.
“Are you sure?” I whispered.
He nodded once. “I’m sure.”
I left his house with my ears ringing.
Outside, the late afternoon sky over Tacoma looked normal—gray, heavy, the way Washington skies often do. People drove past. A neighbor dragged a trash bin to the curb.continue reading …
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