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How to Keep from Becoming a Potiphar's Wife
Her arms rigid, she painted the kohl along the contours of her eyelids and struck the bell alerting a slave – for the third time. Finally...
How a Dead Chicken's Story Can Bless Our Children
The other night was a wet one. I know because carnage got me out in it. About 10 my husband asked me if the chickens had gotten put up...
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