He stopped, back to me, shoulders hunched as if to absorb a blow. He was wearing white cotton pants and a billowy blueshirt. That's wonderful. A lot of folks down here'vemissed you, Mike.
There's something oddlyintimate about spotting. I felt the stingand the warm flow of blood. Youcouldn't see them, but you could feel them. I felt fine the rest of Friday afternoon--my talk with Bonnie left a lotof questions unanswered, but it had been a tonic just the same.
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