There was a coffee equipage on the table, and some sandwiches, and the fire had been recently made up. The simile started a laugh in his throat. They had shared almost seventy five wonderful years there in nearly utter seclusion before it came time to move on. She was shifting, moving back. He did so care for you. ‘Pig! Pig, a thousand times!’ Running footsteps could be heard now, and she knew that the commotion was bringing the nuns, just as she had hoped. Supper was spaghetti and Italian sausage that night. John laughed even harder, his eyes misting over.
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