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Six Pairs of Thick Gray Socks Saved My White House on Elm Street

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the papers tight against my ribs.

At four o’clock, I took another taxi to the north side of town. I did not have the driver pull into Brenda’s driveway, but had him stop near the corner grocery store instead. I walked the remaining half-block, keeping my chin down against the wind.

Brenda’s house was a split-level with peeling gray paint on the gutters.continue reading …

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