| "I don’t know much bout borrowin’ greenbacks from banks and such, but I know a pot full bout borrowin’ happiness from this sad ol’ world," Myrtle declared, her voice straining with her back as she bent to check a skillet of cornbread in the oven. "There jist isn’t enough to go round anymore. And when a woman can snatch a few good years outta Father Time’s hip pocket…why, yessiree…she can count herself luckier than most." So declares one of Paul Raphael’s many… |
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