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September 27, 2008
"How did you get that mark?" I asked, referring to the discoloration on his knuckle.
He said it was from working for the lottery a couple years ago and explained the office equipment involved in his mishap.
Outside, the palm trees were dancing in the breeze. Inside, I continued to look at his hand. I looked at it the same way I did a couple weeks later while we were driving on the interstate in Michigan. I was a shadow amidst the glowing speedometer, wanting to kiss it when he showed me where his brother was in the car accident.