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A bank bag now hung from those teeth—yellow-gray rancid, decaying teeth, strands of tobacco chew laced in between. Those thin pen mark lips could not hide the teeth’s keyhole spaces, shaped by open cavities—the bank bag hung from those teeth. The me
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To describe Julie Martin in those days is to give a resume of prairie truth: her good soul and giving heart were the stunning elements of her beauty. From afar she was a demographic sample like millions of women who, unlike Cassandra, could not afford to
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