Bikers Were Painting My Dead Mother’s House Pink At 4AM And I Didn’t Know Any Of Them

we were talking. The house was half pink. The bikers were still working, moving with the efficiency of men who’d done this kind of thing together a thousand times.

I looked at the list again. Really read it this time.

1. Paint the house pink. I always wanted it pink but Ray said it was trashy. Ray’s dead now and so am I. Paint it pink.
2. Fix the porch railing continue reading …
   

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