I declare myself a free man, for now. I have two bowls of dough rising in the refrigerator and have just submitted an article on avenging the murder of the Mecklenburg Marksman to JOURNAL OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION. I have not made bread in two months or so, before the BOX descended from NYC. Have I forgotten how? Someone smaller than me is ecstatic, since she has been subsisting on store-bought bread all this time. We will see. Will they like my article? Will the rolls turn out? Will they rise while I am at the beach? Oh, the complexities of age! And relationships: for it was Uncle Jonathan Price's brother who led the party over the hills and hanged the murderer and buried him face down so he could claw his way to hell, and Jonathan would surely have been included in the posse.
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