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“Well, you know, doctors need to work on the dead poor so they can help the live rich.”
Yet it was hard to ignore what living with her had become: a tired cruelty laced her voice and the buzz of her disappointment defined the silence.
“Misery don’t call ahead. That’s why you have to stay awake—otherwise it just walks on in your door.”
Ignoring those who preferred new, soft blankets, they practiced what they had been taught by their mothers during the period that rich people called the Depression and they called life.
