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Author Archives: elizabeth ann johnson-murphree

About elizabeth ann johnson-murphree

Artist/Writer of Fiction, Poetry and Prose. Born in Alabama to a Native American (Chickasaw) father and an emotionally absent mother since the Author's birth, raised by her father, her Native American great-grandmother and an African-American woman whom were all grand storytellers. As early as four years old she was roaming the countryside around her home alone or with her father; and at night she sat at the feet of these strong-minded individuals listening to the stories of their lives. Summers she lived with her fathers' sister in Birmingham, Alabama; it was that she would discover a library, and mingle with her aunt's circle of friends that included local writers, artist, and politicians. A cabin deep within the Black Warrior Forest was her playground on the weekends. Her aunt encouraged her imagination by introducing her to journaling, which she filled with stories over the summer. Planted was the desire to write, a seedling waiting to spurt from the warm southern heart of a child. Her love of art and painting came through the teachings of a grammar school teacher which she pursues when the well of words dry up when writing. Throughout the years along with her father, great-great-grandmother, and her beloved Aunt Francis, other influences were her high school English teacher Mrs. S. Odom, writers Faulkner, Capote, Fitzgerald, and Harper Lee. Later in life, she discovered the warm and comic writing of Grace Paley. The vivid poetry of William Carlos Williams; the strong poetry of Phyllis McGinley, and the world's most exciting women, Maya Angelou are some of the poets at the top of her list. Nonetheless, with adulthood, the desire to write buried itself deep within, the dream wilted but did not die. It laid dormant, gaining experiences all written in hidden journals. These experiences, the contents of these journals became short stories and poetry reading to share with the world. She writes of many life experiences in poetry format; questioning everything from Mother Nature to God...the poetry is raw and may not be understood by all. Yet, it comes from deep within and reads of truth within her soul. The harshness that shrouded her life would cause her to withdraw from most of the world; it fills the pages of her writing, the heartache, the abuse, and the denial her mother frankly portrayed. Today, she enjoys her children, grand and great grandchildren, her four-legged companion Mason, they live in Southern Wisconsin...far from her southern roots; however she continues to write and paint daily. Ann has published in Kindle eBooks and paperbacks at Amazon.com: Book #1 Echoing Images from the Soul 2012 Book #2 Beyond the Voices 2012 Book #3 Reflections of Poetry 2013 Book #4 Honeysuckle Memories 2013 Book #5 Sachets of Poetry on Adoration, Anger, Asylums and Aspirations 2014 Book #6 My Journey into Art 2014 Book #7 Asterial Thoughts

  MY FAVORITE PEOPLE… MY FOLLOWERS

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MY FAVORITE PEOPLE… MY FOLLOWERS

I HAD A BIT OF TROUBLE WITH MY HEALTH; THIS WILL BE MY EIGHTH DAY IN THE HOSPITAL; THEN TO A REHAB FACILITY FOR TWO WEEKS OR MORE.  I WILL HAVE MORE TIME TO WRITE WHEN I LEAVE THE HOSPITAL WHICH IN CURRENTLY UNKNOWN.  I WILL UPDATE YOU WHEN POSSIBLE.  THANK YOU FOR BEING PATIENCE.  MY RECOVERY IS CURRENTLY STATED TO BE SUCCESSFUL TO DATE.  I WILL KEEP YOU UPDATED FROM TIME TO TIME.

EAJM

 
 

The Chickasaw – Part 10

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The Chickasaw – Part 10

 

The war would soon be over, Pap had not returned to Chadwick since he left; he rode into Decatur, Alabama on a sway back mule. His horse of many years was dead; he stole the mule from a sharecropper close to the Tennessee River and rode toward Decatur. The company he scouted for was now somewhere over on the Georgia line.
Pap received no more than a glance as darkness set in; he pulled the old mule into the river holding onto the bridle, he guided the mule between the Railroad Bridge and old bridge linking the North side of the river held by the Yankees and to the South side guarded by the Confederates’. When he reached the other side, he walked into a Yankee camp all eyes and guns were on him.
He would be considered a traitor in the eyes of the Confederates’ and the Northern troops as well. Seeing that he was a scout they allowed him to sit by their fire to dry his clothes and eat; something he had not done in a week.
Pap road across the Tennessee River Bridge into Decatur to gather all the information he could; then road back without any trouble. The stench of the town was terrible; he held a bag filled with cleansing Sage to his nose. He thought of Chadwick and Jane.
This will be the last posting of The Chickasaw; other works will fill the pages for my great supporters.
Story Resources:
Storyteller – Jane Over-Town “Overton” 1848-1954 at the age of 106 her mind was intact, she never forgot anything, It was her body that was ready for death; she lay down for an afternoon nap and woke only to say goodbye to the grandson she raised as she took her last breath, speaking softly to my father.
Grandson – Roy C. Johnson
Granddaughter – Vina Evans-Quinn
Elizabeth Ann Johnson-Murphree Great – Granddaughter

 

BOOKS AVAILABLE ON AMAZON.COM

 

 

https://www.amazon.com/Honeysuckle-Memories-Ann-Johnson-murphree/dp/150029070X/ref=asap_bc?ie=UTF8

https://www.amazon.com/Asterial-Thoughts-Journey-into-Thought/dp/1540862356/ref=asap_bc?ie=UTF8

https://www.amazon.com/Rutted-Roads-Collections-Ann-Johnson-Murphree/dp/1532909365/ref=asap_bc?ie=UTF81

https://www.amazon.com/Journey-into-Art-Ann-Johnson-Murphree/dp/1500502960/ref=asap_bc?ie=UTF8

https://www.amazon.com/Sachet-Poetry-Adoration-Aspirations-Asylums/dp/1500483354/ref=asap_bc?ie=UTF8

https://www.amazon.com/Beyond-Voices-Ann-Johnson-Murphree/dp/1500426709/ref=asap_bc?ie=UTF8

https://www.amazon.com/Echoing-Images-Soul-Journey-into/dp/1500366811/ref=asap_bc?ie=UTF8

https://www.amazon.com/Reflections-Poetry-Ann-Johnson-Murphree/dp/1500168645/ref=asap_bc?ie=UTF8

 

 

 

The Heroine’s Journey of Lindy Michaels

The Heroine’s Journey of Lindy Michaels

One of my favorites, follow Lindy she will never disappoint you with her writing. E.

The Heroine's Journey

What’s the best thing I love about my work? So many jobs, so little time. As a writer, a comedy writer, for the most part, I do love putting my funny sensibilities into my characters, as I let them live in the plots I’ve come up with. As a script/book analyst, I love helping writers with their musings, putting them on the right track for their characters to live within their imaginary lives. Having owned LA’s first children’s bookshop, OF BOOKS AND SUCH, (1972-1987) I am also the children’s person at BookStar, in Studio City, CA, still trying to inspire young minds. The movie, You’ve Got Mail was based on my life, really, except for two things… no email in the 70’s and I didn’t marry Tom Hanks!

What is my idea of perfect happiness? At my age, waking up in the morning!

What is my greatest fear? Not exactly…

View original post 2,199 more words

 
 

The Chickasaw – Part 9

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Then War came to Chadwick Manor…

The State of Alabama declared that it had seceded from the United States of America on January 11, 1861.  Jane was thirteen-years-old; she had learned many things like gracefulness and proper manners; Sipsee had succeeded in keeping her daughter from the Master, now she had to worry about the soldiers both Union and Southern, neither respected women.  She and her mother were happy when it ended; Jane was seventeen-years-old.   She would only say up to the end of her life that the greed of the white man would be his downfall.  Sipsee and Jane remain in the Chickasaw village until the War ended.

It was there that Jane met Pap, he was an Indian Scout for the South, and Jane just becoming a young woman and no longer referred to as a child was smitten by him.  Sipsee did not care for him as he was twenty years older than Jane was; Sipsee hoped that he would not come back; Jane felt a sadness she could not explain.  Sipsee considered Jane still a child and to Jane he was some sort of God, a Warrior like her father fighting for the South.

Sipsee did not see him as a great Warrior and neither did the other people in the slave quarters; at best he was to laid-back and lazy, he went from family to family in cabins to be fed.  Yet, he never contributed to the quarters, no deer, rabbit, nothing.  He seems to slip in and out, as he pleased.

Pap had his own story; he had been a scout for the Southern Army, it was apparent that the South was falling, hunger, no coats or fires to keep away the cold nights. To have a fire could be deadly.  He had witnessed much during the past four years, it was his job to go ahead and scout out the “Yankee” camps.  There they were tents and fires to keep out the cold nights; he could smell the food being cooked or roasted over the fire and he was always hungry.  He had been issued a rifle but was weary of using it to draw attention; he had no bow and arrows (only a romantic notion by the whites), his silent weapons were his knife and a hatchet.  He was good at catching game but it would not be wise to make a fire inside enemy lines.

It was close to the end of the war, Pap had not returned to Chadwick since he left; he rode into Decatur, Alabama bareback on a sway back mule.  His horse had been shot out from under him in a getaway on his last scouting trip; he stole the mule from a sharecropper close to the Tennessee River and rode toward Decatur.  The company he scouted for was now somewhere over on the Georgia line.

Pap received no more than a glance as darkness set in; he pulled the old mule into the river holding onto the bridle, he guided the mule between the railroad and old bridge linking the North side of the river held by the Yankees and to the South side guarded by the Confederates’.  When he reached the other side, he walked into a Yankee camp all eyes and guns were on him.

To be continued…

Story Resources:

Storyteller – Jane Over-Town “Overton” 1848-1954 at the age of 106 her mind was intact, she never forgot anything, It was her body that was ready for death; she lay down for an afternoon nap and woke only to say goodbye to the grandson she raised as she took her last breath, speaking softly to my father.

Grandson – Roy C. Johnson

Granddaughter – Vina Evans-Quinn

Elizabeth Ann Johnson-Murphree Great – Granddaughter

BOOKS AT AMAZON.COM BY ELIZABETH ANN JOHNSON-MURPHREE

https://www.amazon.com/Honeysuckle-Memories-Ann-Johnson-murphree/dp/150029070X/ref=asap_bc?ie=UTF8/

https://www.amazon.com/Asterial-Thoughts-Journey-into-Thought/dp/1540862356/ref=asap_bc?ie=UTF8

https://www.amazon.com/Rutted-Roads-Collections-Ann-Johnson-Murphree/dp/1532909365/ref=asap_bc?ie=UTF81

https://www.amazon.com/Journey-into-Art-Ann-Johnson-Murphree/dp/1500502960/ref=asap_bc?ie=UTF8

https://www.amazon.com/Sachet-Poetry-Adoration-Aspirations-Asylums/dp/1500483354/ref=asap_bc?ie=UTF8

https://www.amazon.com/Beyond-Voices-Ann-Johnson-Murphree/dp/1500426709/ref=asap_bc?ie=UTF8

https://www.amazon.com/Echoing-Images-Soul-Journey-into/dp/1500366811/ref=asap_bc?ie=UTF8

https://www.amazon.com/Reflections-Poetry-Ann-Johnson-Murphree/dp/1500168645/ref=asap_bc?ie=UTF8

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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The Chickasaw – Part 8

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The Chickasaw – Part 8

Sipsee and Jane thought life at Chadwick Manor was worse than they could have imagined witnessing pain and sorrow.  They also learned to live in a world where freedom was recognized only by the color of one’s skin; they learned that the world they lived in showed hatred for both the Negro and the Indian people.  The Indians were mostly free in many of the states that withdrew from the Union.

They would learn how to survive…

Jane had wonderful memories of her mother and father; she also had nightmares of seeing her father killed and of the Master of Chadwick coming to their one room shanty during the night.  The sadness of moving from the forest onto land where she was surrounded by cotton, and living with her mother’s sadness, Jane knew that both she and her mother would need to learn a new way to survive.

As a favor to Sipsee, Mistress Chadwick-Alboin and Master Alboin allowed Jane to be schooled along with their daughter;  Jane learned  reading and writing, elegant manners.  Her mother told her that an education was the only way she would escape from being an Indian; Sipsee wanted her only child to do extremely well in this new land, to be accepted in any social setting.  Jane did want to learn the white man ways; she would never forget that she was the daughter of Hawk Over-Town.

Their home may have been a one room shanty in slave quarters, but it was home; Jane was a tall gangly girl that did not have the beauty of her mother, instead she was to bare the hard sculpted features of her father.  She felt safe when she and her mother were roaming the woods collecting herbs and plants for medicine.  Sipsee would teach Jane the ways of their people, the custom, the culture, they would grow strong and some day be more than slaves to rich landowners.  Sipsee wanted to see the day when she and her daughter did not have to address these people as Missus and Master.

Then War came to Chadwick Manor…

The State of Alabama declared that it had seceded from the United States of America on January 11, 1861.  Jane was thirteen-years-old; she had learned many things like gracefulness and proper manners; Sipsee had succeeded in keeping her daughter from the Master, now she had to worry about the soldiers both Union and Southern, neither respected women.  It was during the beginning of the war that Sipsee found out about other Chickasaw’s living in the area; the Mistress of Chadwick sent them there to be safe, neither side Union or Southern bothered the Indians.  When they arrived everyone greeted them, they were shown kindness; it would be their home until the War Between the States was over.

Jane right up to the end of her life would not talk about the War.  She and her mother were happy when it ended; Jane was seventeen-years-old.   She would only say that the greed of the white man would be their downfall.  Sipsee and Jane remain in the Chickasaw village when the War ended.

It was there that Jane met Pap.  He was a scout for the South, and Jane just became a teenager and was smitten by him.  Sipsee did not care for him as he was twenty years older than Jane was; Sipsee hoped that he would not come back; Jane felt a sadness she could not explain.  

To be continued…

Story Resources:

Storyteller – Jane Over-Town “Overton” 1848-1954 at the age of 106 her mind was Like a steel trap, she never forgot anything, It was her body that was ready for death; she lay down for an afternoon nap and woke only to say goodbye to the grandson she raised, my father.

Grandson – Roy C. Johnson

Granddaughter – Vina Evans-Quinn

Elizabeth Ann Johnson-Murphree Great – Granddaughter

 

BOOKS AT AMAZON.COM BY ELIZABETH ANN JOHNSON-MURPHREE

https://www.amazon.com/Honeysuckle-Memories-Ann-Johnson-murphree/dp/150029070X/ref=asap_bc?ie=UTF8/

https://www.amazon.com/Asterial-Thoughts-Journey-into-Thought/dp/1540862356/ref=asap_bc?ie=UTF8

https://www.amazon.com/Rutted-Roads-Collections-Ann-Johnson-Murphree/dp/1532909365/ref=asap_bc?ie=UTF81

https://www.amazon.com/Journey-into-Art-Ann-Johnson-Murphree/dp/1500502960/ref=asap_bc?ie=UTF8

https://www.amazon.com/Sachet-Poetry-Adoration-Aspirations-Asylums/dp/1500483354/ref=asap_bc?ie=UTF8

https://www.amazon.com/Beyond-Voices-Ann-Johnson-Murphree/dp/1500426709/ref=asap_bc?ie=UTF8

https://www.amazon.com/Echoing-Images-Soul-Journey-into/dp/1500366811/ref=asap_bc?ie=UTF8

https://www.amazon.com/Reflections-Poetry-Ann-Johnson-Murphree/dp/1500168645/ref=asap_bc?ie=UTF8

 

 

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The Chickasaw – Part 7

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The Chickasaw – Part 7

Sipsee took hold of the horse carrying Hawk’s body and started the sorrowful procession deep into the forest.  The Indian families followed their song of death floated into the wind that was shaking the leaves and bending small branches.  They buried Hawk in the forest he loved.

Sipsee decided that she had to leave as quickly as possible, the logging cabin belonged to the Mill and they would want to hire another logger.  The Mill owner brought her a small wagon and she loaded it with the few belongings that they would need.  She gave horses to Hawks’ closest friends and hitched two of them up to the wagon.  Placing Jane on the seat, she pulled herself onto the wagon; Sipsee never looked back.  She took with her a letter of endorsement from the white woman that taught her English.  The letter was to be given to the woman’s sister farther down in Alabama Territory.  She promised Sipsee that she would find work there.

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Sipsee arrived in the late evening and was welcomed by all to Chadwick Manor; Beatrice Chadwick-Alboin was the owner with her husband Axial a chosen individual by her parents.  Sipsee was given a position serving the “Lady” of the house.  The “Master” kept commenting on Sipsee’ beauty; the Lady of the house chastised him and he walked away.  When she was given a tour of the house,  where she could or could not go, Sipsee thought the house would hold ten families.  Jane was also given a position; she would serve the only child they had, as would Sipsee in Jane’s absence.

After introductions to everyone in the house, Missus Chadwick called for the houseboy to show Sipsee where she and Jane would be living.  Both mother and daughter quickly discovered that they were to live in the Negro quarters.  Their lives and how they lived was not different than the slaves on Chadwick Manor other than they were free to come and go as they pleased.

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Sipsee thought often that this life was in many ways worse than the ones her family would be living on western lands; this life was witness to pain and sorrow.  Jane learned to live in a world free to practice the customs of her parents; she also learned the world of hate for both the Negro and the Indian people.

She would learn how to survive…

To be continued…

Authors Note:  I have tried to construct the stories about the Chickasaws’ told by Ma (my Great Grandmother), Aunt Vina and my daddy so that I may create a written legacy to share the lives of my ancestors with my readers and the general public.  Thank you for your support.  EAJM

Story Resources:

Storyteller – Jane Over-Town “Overton” 1848-1954 at the age of 106 her mind was Like a steel trap, she never forgot anything, It was her body that was ready for death; she lay down for an afternoon nap and woke only to say goodbye to the grandson she raised, my father.

Grandson – Roy C. Johnson

Granddaughter – Vina Evans-Quinn

Elizabeth Ann Johnson-Murphree Great – Granddaughter

 

BOOKS AT AMAZON.COM BY ELIZABETH ANN JOHNSON-MURPHREE

https://www.amazon.com/Honeysuckle-Memories-Ann-Johnson-murphree/dp/150029070X/ref=asap_bc?ie=UTF8/

https://www.amazon.com/Asterial-Thoughts-Journey-into-Thought/dp/1540862356/ref=asap_bc?ie=UTF8

https://www.amazon.com/Rutted-Roads-Collections-Ann-Johnson-Murphree/dp/1532909365/ref=asap_bc?ie=UTF81

https://www.amazon.com/Journey-into-Art-Ann-Johnson-Murphree/dp/1500502960/ref=asap_bc?ie=UTF8

https://www.amazon.com/Sachet-Poetry-Adoration-Aspirations-Asylums/dp/1500483354/ref=asap_bc?ie=UTF8

https://www.amazon.com/Beyond-Voices-Ann-Johnson-Murphree/dp/1500426709/ref=asap_bc?ie=UTF8

https://www.amazon.com/Echoing-Images-Soul-Journey-into/dp/1500366811/ref=asap_bc?ie=UTF8

https://www.amazon.com/Reflections-Poetry-Ann-Johnson-Murphree/dp/1500168645/ref=asap_bc?ie=UTF8

 

The Chickasaw – Part 6

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Authors Note:  I have tried to construct the stories about the Chickasaws’ told by Ma, Aunt Vina and my daddy so that I may create a written legacy to share the lives of my ancestors with my readers and the general public.  Thank you for your support.  EAJM

The Chickasaw – Part 6

Hawk Over-Town searched for work every day since their escape from the march West, Sipsee knew that she needed to change, learn the language; but Hawk refused and no one would hire an Indian that could not speak English.  One morning in early summer he just up and left; it was eight weeks before he returned home; he entered their yard with a team of eight horses.  He told Sipsee that he had found a wild herd and that he broke them before returning.  Sipsee suspected someone farther south was missing eight horses

He did find work at a nearby logging camp after he returned, they had a logging mill shack, food and firewood for cooking and keeping warm; what more did they need.  He quickly became one of the top loggers and with the finest horse team to pull logs out of the forest to the mill.  It did not take long for another logger who was jealous to wage a bet with him; the bet…loser got the other loggers team of horses.  Wes was a man that had killed many men, or he bragged about it, he wanted this Indian dead.

The day of the pulling race the mill yard was full of people.  The logging skids were loaded, both skids were suppose to have the same amount of weight in logs.  Unknown to Hawk deep within the logs on his skid were heavy iron bars that would almost double the weight on his team.

Sipsee and ten-year-old Jane found a place to stand at the starting line.  Jane could feel her mother shaking, her hand sweaty, and knew that she was scared for Hawk.  He begin to hitch his team to the skid, he and the other logger steadied themselves on the skid behind their horses.  It was then that a large hawk circled his skid spreading his massive wings; the sounds the hawk was frantic.  Hawk fleetingly thought about his quest and the large Red Tail Hawk his protector.

Hawk turned to look at Sipsee and Jane, he smiled; the starting shot from the pistol of the mill owner started the race.  Hawk knew when his team lurched forward that his skid carried more weight than it was suppose too.   However, within seconds the teams were side by side, Hawk pulled ahead and saw the bloody cuts on the backs of McCartee’ horses left by the brutal lashing of the whip.  He wanted the whipping to end, Hawk urged his team on and they quickly went across the finish line.

It was then that some men in the crowd yelled in surprise, “That Injun won”.   Hawk leaped from his skid and jumped upon McCartee skid jerking his whip from him; beating him until gashes like the horses covered his face.  He walked back to his own team.

Gasp from spectators filled the air when they saw a pistol drawn.  Sipsee pulled Jane closer to her covering her face with her dress as she screamed Hawks’ name.  The pistol fired until the chamber was empty.  Hawks back was covered with blood, he fell on one of his horses; the team he found in a pasture of a wealthy plantation owner deep in southern Alabama Territory.

Sipsee and Jane ran to his side, he was dead; they lay on top of him crying until several Indian women pulled them away.  Hawks’ friends both white and Indian carried him home, but not before Sipsee unhooked the horses from the skid taking them with her.  As she walked away the drunken voice of Wes McCartee rang threw the air.

“Well, guess we just rid ourselves from another dirty injun”.  He laughed loudly.

Sipsee walked over to him saying softly, “No, you did not kill a dirty Indian, you murdered a Chickasaw Warrior.

To be continued…

Story Resources:

Storyteller – Jane Over-Town “Overton” 1848-1954 at the age of 106 her mind was Like a steel trap, she never forgot anything, It was her body that was ready for death; she lay down for an afternoon nap and woke only to say goodbye to the grandson she raised, my father.

Grandson – Roy C. Johnson

Granddaughter – Vina Evans-Quinn

Elizabeth Ann Johnson-Murphree Great – Granddaughter

 

BOOKS AT AMAZON.COM BY ELIZABETH ANN JOHNSON-MURPHREE

https://www.amazon.com/Honeysuckle-Memories-Ann-Johnson-murphree/dp/150029070X/ref=asap_bc?ie=UTF8/

https://www.amazon.com/Asterial-Thoughts-Journey-into-Thought/dp/1540862356/ref=asap_bc?ie=UTF8

https://www.amazon.com/Rutted-Roads-Collections-Ann-Johnson-Murphree/dp/1532909365/ref=asap_bc?ie=UTF81

https://www.amazon.com/Journey-into-Art-Ann-Johnson-Murphree/dp/1500502960/ref=asap_bc?ie=UTF8

https://www.amazon.com/Sachet-Poetry-Adoration-Aspirations-Asylums/dp/1500483354/ref=asap_bc?ie=UTF8

https://www.amazon.com/Beyond-Voices-Ann-Johnson-Murphree/dp/1500426709/ref=asap_bc?ie=UTF8

https://www.amazon.com/Echoing-Images-Soul-Journey-into/dp/1500366811/ref=asap_bc?ie=UTF8

https://www.amazon.com/Reflections-Poetry-Ann-Johnson-Murphree/dp/1500168645/ref=asap_bc?ie=UTF8

 
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Posted by on September 11, 2017 in Writing

 
 
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