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This morning I, too, am in a hurry. The plumber who has reneged four times has promised that he will show up to fix the leak in our bathroom.
“Mother-promise, Madam,” he pronounced solemnly, when I phoned him last night. “God-promise.”
“Don’t say that,” I admonished. “If you don’t come tomorrow, your mother will die.”
I didn’t know then that his mother was already dead.
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