Winston
By Moe Lester Justin Madden gets out of his dusty pickup truck, crosses the gravel to his back porch, opens the door, and then steps inside. It’s at least ten degrees cooler in the enclosed porch them the outside, but he stands there and strips off his clothes and shoes, then he goes into the kitchen, leaving his dusty, chaff-covered garments in a heap by the washing machine. Sarah, his wife, gazes up from the sink where she’s rinsing salad
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