Norm Jenson

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Grandma Marie was a soft gray flannel mouse clutching a pocketbook, poking her fluffy head out of her apartment hole. I could feel her shyness rubbing off on me. Sometimes she asked me to make an inquiry. “Go see what that big doll costs.” She’d stand on the sidewalk while I ran inside to find a saleslady.
I'll Ask You Three Times, Are You OK?: Tales of Driving and Being Driven
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