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Then the man said, "This at last is bone of my bones and flesh of my flesh; she shall be called Woman . . ."
And the 'woman' said, "Say, what?"
And God said, "Let the games begin."
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(Old Albany Post Road) is a dirt road and will forever be that way. There is an Old Road Society in town, and members are militant. Old Albany is their prized project.
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This was elementary school in the 1950’s, before President Kennedy advanced the cause of fitness for school children. But Mr. Cave needed no presidential push.
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HER kindergarten teacher had taught the class the wonders of white-bread-and-French's-mustard sandwiches. Blecch.
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I perused my small, kid-targeted weather book (maybe even a Golden Book?) ‘til I cracked its spine.
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The schout whereupon demanded that the defendant "shall be punished as a tumultuous and seditious person . . . "
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[T]he Fosters' marriage was the second for each. Seems that there had been an "exchange" at some point earlier such that two couples had simply, shall we say, reorganized.
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But for me [the moon landing] came with an equal dose of profound sadness.
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. . . it looked to be some form of ritual, the Shunning of the Water
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In the Beginning a/k/a Original Spin
Prompted By Games People Play
/ Stories

Dirt Road Rage
Prompted By Road Rage
/ Stories

Mr. Cave
Prompted By An Unforgettable Person
/ Stories

Generations
Prompted By Kindergarten
/ Stories

Geek of Geeks
Prompted By Weather
/ Stories

A Demon Seed?
Prompted By Genealogy
/ Stories

Won’t You Stay My Neighbor?
Prompted By Neighbors
/ Stories

Vichnaya Pamyat*
Prompted By Moon Landing
/ Stories

Beach Readers
Prompted By Beach Reads
/ Stories
