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Prologue of the Weatherman

April 24, 2009

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I am a voice in my head. As long as I don’t interfere, the rest of me functions rather well—until Miss V hands me the fortune cookie at the finish line of a plateful of her twice baked pork. “Herro Razalla,” Miss Violet does the Chinese thing with Lazarra even though she’s Stanford, Class of […]

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