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He was tall, lean, and young. When he approached me, he hugged me. My Job Is Top Secret Even I Don’t Know What I’m Doing Shirt Snoopy. Then, his mother hugged us both. A three-person club sandwich. He must’ve been a foot taller than I was. His voice squeaked with adolescence. His skin was freckled. He had a long neck. He recognized me. I liked your books, sir, he said, through a nervous stutter. Sir? No way. Such titles are reserved for men who wear penny loafers when fishing.
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I read all your books when I was in the hospital, the boy said. I kinda got to know you, and it was kinda like we were friends.” His mother tells me his story. My Job Is Top Secret Even I Don’t Know What I’m Doing Shirt. It’s a long one, and it’s not mine to repeat. He has the determination of a saint, and a long road ahead of him. He suffers more than other kids his age. And he might not survive his struggle. Before he walked away, he told me: I list ten new things I love every day. I write’em on paper. My dad told me to do that.
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He tapped his finger against his head. Gotta keep on thinking ‘bout good things I love. My Job Is Top Secret Even I Don’t Know What I’m Doing Shirt. What kinda things do you love? I was rendered mute. I couldn’t seem to find words. I noticed a large moon-shaped scar beneath his hair. I tried to say something, anything, but I didn’t. He hugged me one more time. His mother took his arm, they walked away. The boy walked with a pronounced limp, holding his mother for balance. And I can’t quit thinking about him.