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Stacie thought back on when she took them to the Filipino restaurant in Queens. She says, “Just do it.” I say, “That’s another company.” She says, “I’m lovin’ it.” ★ ★ ☆ ☆ ☆There’s a revolving door to get in the waiting room. And we are dying an injured, too, in our own simple way. It’s cool that we left the cave and invented medical science.

“You know,” he said, “that class that counts toward your major–toward your degree.” “English counts toward my degree too, Dad. “And please don’t interrupt me when I’m talking.” Her mother started. “I just said I wasn’t.” “She couldn’t, it’s too late.” “It’s not too late, but I’m not. It’s not that she was convinced her father had become more accepting of Black Lives Matter or more willing to concede to the existence of police brutality; but she made him listen and that was at least a win for her. Stacie’s mother, noticing her daughter’s embarrassment, whispered to her husband that “they don't make that here.” “Oh, I’m sure they could,” he said, his eyes narrowed on the waiter. ” Eventually, he settled for the Chicken Adobo but Stacie’s embarrassment had already turned into anger which would last for the rest of the meal. I set her down again and go inside a bodega and buy two Gatorades. She welcomed her anger this time, though, with open arms. She came to the restaurant straight from her college library and was immediately returning after lunch. Stacie began talking about the paper she had just come from working on. “You’re not turning into one of those college students are you? Perhaps noticing the window of silence at the table, the waiter delivered the check. Will you tell me now how you’re doing in Organic Chemistry? Horse Pistol My wife wakes up and her left leg doesn’t work anymore.★ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆“What does that mean? She pulls the cover off the bed and looks scared, points at the normal-looking leg and says, “I can’t move it. Gesturing excitedly with her hands, she spoke about the paper’s main argument and how much she loved her English professor who drank Campbell’s soup out of coffee mugs and had an erotic painting of Leda and the Swan in her office. She was published in some really big magazine this semester, apparently. I guess she writes a lot about social justice and civil rights. ” he asked Stacie waited for the waiter to fill all three glasses. “You know, one of those college students,” he said, still smiling. Stacie sat forward in her seat, forcing her mother’s cautionary hand off of her knee. “If she wants to tell her father off again, I’ll let her.” “Look, Dad, Black Lives Matter does not mean that black lives matter more than any other life. I guess we’re all just old racists.” “Oh, Daniel,” his wife lamented. ” *** Stacie was sure to hug her father before they parted ways at the D train. I leave your book that you sent me that I don’t like down there in the laundry room. I’m trying but it won’t move.” ★ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆I say, “What do you want to do?

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