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The Monk and the Motorcycle
By
Cheryl Petersen
Driving slower than the speed limit through the Village of Delhi (Pop. 3087) in upstate New York, I could see ahead, two monks sporting brightly colored monastic robes and walking placidly along Main Street. I piloted my motorcycle to the right and parked in an empty space. I switched the key off and turned to…
Memory Expansion
By
Cheryl Petersen
There she was, Naomi, teeny-tiny and sleeping peacefully in the baby carriage. Her parents are our friends, so of course, my husband and I went to meet Naomi. I stood there looking at the newborn and smiling. A flood of memories bombarded me. Naomi is adorable, no doubt about that, and a good baby, I…
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