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"It's a good living," he added. "I could take care of someone I loved on what I make." "I don't understand." She grabbed a broom resting against the screen door and began sweeping sand ascii art farts off the concrete porch. "Eat, eat. You'll be hungry later. You want some different kind of tea, maybe? Jasmine? Earl Grey?" "You don't have mint by any chance?" he asked. "If it's no trouble." "You want mint? Why didn't you tell me?" Sarah bent over ascii art farts one of the plants in the yard, her expert fingers picking through the ascii art farts leaves until she found the sprig she wanted. She washed it off with a sharp blast of her garden hose, then plunked the fresh mint into Michael's mug. "There's your mint tea." The sun grilled the back of Michael's neck and made his eyes water as he waited with Becky for the bus to Tel Aviv.
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