Jean Kingsley
Apology to Wrigley, et al. The clouds whisper a fine spray of drizzle—not bad you think—but still rain. Might be welcome on a hot day, but in late November shrinks the skin with cold. It’s not a matter of if we get breast cancer, but when. After a lumpectomy, she asked to see the offending tissue—it looked like an old piece of chewed gum: gray, slick, bitten.
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