For dinner, a delicious tuna salad on mesclun with a tomato from somewhere half way around the world. And a glass of water. Beth is running errands. “Can I get you anything?” she asked.
“Potato chips,” I replied. “Thick, greasy, salty potato chips. Or bridge mix. Cheap chocolate. Anything to feed my inner glutton.”
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“being a downer” is not on the list of seven deadly sins. Should we make it eight?
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