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single targets”—I sat at the kitchen table with my phone.
I called the thrift store.
“Thrift Barn,” a guy answered, sounding bored.
“Hi, this is Graham. I bought a washing machine from you earlier today. The sixty-dollar one, as-is.”
He snorted. “It break already?”
“No, actually it works fine,” I said. “But I found something inside it. A wedding ring. I’m continue reading …
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