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Happy people are never lonely. That’s what he said. Casey laughed, abruptly stopped, and glanced over at her summertime friend Joy who sat on the floor, fingering an ancient brass candelabrum. The candlelight flashed across her freckled young face—
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Red meat is not her problem. Red meat takes the beating and repairs, reforms, becomes stronger.
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The story of my life/
would put insomniacs to sleep.
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