Stephanie and Bethany did a quick look at each other and doubled over in laughter at that.“Well, you did tell me you didn’t want to talk about her...anymore!” I said, self-righteously.“True,” Bethany said through fits of laughter.I waited for them to stop laughing before I continued.“Stephanie got it through my thick skull that when I argue with my mom, it’s because I’m trying to convince her to see things my way, even though she never will. She pointed out that when I do anything, my first. The stories told her by the Somali slaves she knew showed her what was required.She set on the table a sharp knife and a pair of sharp scissors and placed them on the tray. He can decide what to use on me when he gets here.She looked for something to staunch the bleeding; the slaves were definite about that. After a long, almost fruitless search she decided that the soldering iron would have to do; an extension cord allowed it to reach the power outlet on the wall. She did not turn it on; she. More

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