Doug

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“About a week ago. Here, try this.” He put a few grapes in my hand. I put one into my mouth, chewed, and spit out the skin. “Not bad.” “The skins have been sprayed. You should squeeze the pulp into your mouth. Here.” He handed me half the bunch. We walked along like old buds, squeezing grape pulp into our mouths—but not each other’s mouths. We weren’t that close yet.
Plum Island (John Corey, #1)
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