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Redemption, by Michael R. Barrick

Paul Curtis was having a quiet Friday evening. He’d decided to stay in and keep his elderly cat company. As he reclined on his couch with his ancient and arthritic cat contentedly curled up on his lap he read an old book that had come down to him from his grandfather. The story was ridiculous swashbuckling and daring do that he had read before, more than once. He read it yet again to enjoy the feel of the leather binding, the vanilla smell of the yellowing pages and the sense of nostalgic connection to his late father and grandfather.

There was a knock at his apartment door.

Not a bad way to spend a Sunday afternoon.
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Ever go to describe something and the words come out mixed up and then that becomes what you call the thing from then on? This is vanilla ice cream with applesauce. In an effort to describe this as crustless apple pie la mode, it came out "pustulent pie." This is pustulent pie.
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Current events catharsis.
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