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The normal one was used but for eleven months of the year, the other showed double prices and was used in August, a fine example of Yankee ingenuity!By then, I had written Mrs. Pembleton to send any remaining possessions which might be in storage, along with a lengthy letter of thanks to her and an appraisal of my new circumstances. I lied only by omission, leaving out the facts of my uncle’s permissive and libertine household, and simply told her the truth; that I was enjoying myself immensely. Within a few weeks’ time, several large trunks showed up, much more than I had realized, much of it my parent’s clothing, but also a few keepsakes, and my mother’s meager jewelry.Mind you, I am not complaining. When I showed my father’s uniform, sword, and pistol to Uncle James, he very tenderly took them and said they would be treated well. I cried at his kindness, and in remembrance of my family, and he took me in his arms to embrace me until I felt well enough to continue. The uniform he. Thinner, like he'd lost weight or something. He was starting to get really worried. Maybe he had been in a coma. Maybe it had been months or even years since he had fallen off that stupid catwalk. Maybe he was, like, in the future or something. That would explain all the equipment. He decided that he had to see a mirror. Maybe he was older now. That would be good. He'd always wanted to skip the rest of his awkward teenage years and go straight into his swinging twenties. He just didn't want to be old. It would suck if he turned out to be thirty or something. He would've slept through all the best years of his life. He sat up on his bed and shifted his legs so they hung over the edge. They looked pretty atrophied. He hoped he was still able to walk. He took a deep breath to steady himself, then let his feet hit the floor. He took a couple of test steps, bracing himself against the bed with his arm. Surprisingly, his legs moved fine. They didn't feel weaker at all. If anything, they.
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