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Margie Flynn was in my head like a bad cold, blurring everything. It was a new kind of loneliness, a hurt I couldn__ stop picking at.
Chris Fuhrman The Dangerous Lives of Altar Boys
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Margie Flynn was in my head like a bad cold, blurring everything. It was a new kind of loneliness, a hurt I couldn__ stop picking at.
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Chris Fuhrman

The Dangerous Lives of Altar Boys

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