Dad, dad, before you go, how are you? I’m fine, sweetheart. But you always say you’re fine. In rare books and wine, fine is better than good. He rang off. She stuffed her phone into her coat pocket and stood on the pavement, the wind working its way under shirt and into her skin. You alright little lady? Real weather we’re having. She stared at the stranger and his red face. I’m fine. What did you say? Got an accent on you — not from here. I said, I’m fine. Come on now, sweetheart, you can do better than than that.
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