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Fourteen Years and a Single Ledger from the Autumn Election

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beside the salt shaker. The vinyl seat was cold through my wool skirt, but the warmth of the tea was immediate when I touched the heavy ceramic mug.

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He was dressed in a soft charcoal coat that looked far too fine for the booth, but his smile was remarkably gentle. He reached across the laminated tabletop and touched the back of my continue reading …

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