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97 The Cold Tile Blues “Here,” the old man said. His grandson parked the wheelchair. “They was a row through here where Daddy always planted watermelons, in amongst the cotton. Thataway, when you was picking, you could bust open a cool rind and snatch the heart out.” everyday low prices, boasted the employees’ vests. The old man said, “Jesus in a blue sedan! Muscadines, four dollars a quart. Used to, you could pick them here by the dishpansful. Fresh and free. I told myself I’d never darken the door of this place.” “How come you to change your mind?” “When you’re dying, the hard things you been putting off seem like the only things worth doing.” “You mean coming here or forgiving yourself for selling the land?” Rubbing an arrowhead between his thumb and forefinger, the old man mumbled, “Bust me open.” Sweet home Ala larry to automotives please larry to automotives so blue ...

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