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July 2015, vol 11 no 2

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Tom Painting

Blind Faith


It was anyone’s guess where the newspaper would land when pitched from her car as she passed the house. She delivered early, so I’d search in the dark. I never met her, but felt we had an understanding and expressed my pleasure once a year when I’d stuff some bills into a self-addressed envelope she’d leave with a calendar a week or two before Christmas.

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