

BoomerangAs I sit in my office chair, surrounded by beautiful paintings of the British countryside, I hear the name over the phone; something clicks within my memory and a smile creeps over my face. I hadn't recognized it earlier when I read it on the form.Boomerang
Ah yes, I remember you. I went to school with you way back when, back at good old Reagan. We shared a few classes together, some of the same friends. Our teachers both liked us pretty well, actually. In front of them, we were practically identical; one could have easily mistaken us for good friends. Behind their backs, though, that was where we differed.
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Check out my writing. No, I can't promise you anything but high quality writing. Whaddya mean you what money to read it? Why should I pay you? Hey, let go of my wallet!
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