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Angels for the Needy

“Honey.” It’s your mother. “Look at me, can you look at me? Ok, honey. You were hit by an Angels for the Needy truck. Yes, honey, that’s right the trucks with the weird Christmas music even if it’s the middle of July, and the garish plastic angel on the fender. But you’re all right, baby. You can come home soon. I love you.”

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