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My Days |
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Joe |
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Billboards |
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5
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Is Sarah There? |
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3
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Two Ships |
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4
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The Man With the Top Hat |
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4
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I Want... |
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4
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Dear Teacher, |
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4
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Tears From Heaven |
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3
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A Vow to Not do the Same |
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8
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Unwanted Information |
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6
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Depression |
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17
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Typical American Love |
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5
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Abstract Betrayal |
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5
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Fall |
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5
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Interview of Emily Hamil |
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5
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A Dream for the Future |
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7
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IF i COULD ONLY BE ACHILLES |
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6
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Our Puzzle |
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8
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The Photograph |
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Joe
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Every nite, around ten an elderly man enters Wal Mart and retrieves his mobilized cart that is reserved just for him. On his head, a white novelty trucker hat with a photo of a long departed wife framed in the middle. His wrinkles tell a story of love, loss, hard work and now at eighty-two lots of wisdom. His hand will shake mildly as he reaches into his pocket to pull out a homemade Wal Mart manager badge with the name "Joe" playfully written in blue crayon. The humming of his cart can be heard three aisles away, and the sound of his voice booming through the store as if he were still twenty-three. Everyone knew him, everyone adored him. He would tell stories of snow drifts thirty feet high, and Model T Fords. He would laugh as he talked about how he remembered the mail man would bring him his mail on skis. He came to me one day with a photo album. It was a navy blue with a gold frame. I opened the front cover and there underneath a light layer of dust was a photo of a young man. " Thats me sixty years ago!" he would yell. He was a handsome man. I flipped through the next couple of pages that all portrayed beautiful young women. "These are all the women I dated!" he would point at one and say, " I just had lunch with this one the other day! Her name is Dorothy, what a firecracker she was in her day!" He would laugh, and then fall silent. You could tell that remembering the good ol' days had its sadness with it. He would proceed to tell me stories of his lost wives that both fell to cancer, and what would inevitably one day take him. " I miss her" he would say as he wiped a tear from his eye. " She could never maker her mind up on what curtains to put up! We must have bought half a dozen different ones!" I love to listen to his stories. " Well, I have to go Dusty. I have other people to visit. " With that he will drive away. The humming of his cart will fade, as he rolls around. With him he takes the richest life I have ever heard of. Eighty-two years of adventure. I hope to be him one day.
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