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You will need an orange type that comes with a difficult rind. Refrigerated is ideal. Remove it from the produce box and place it on the counter. Using the nail of your dominant thumb, wedge the cap away from the fruit.
Set aside.
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I used to be tested on the Catholic Church Calendar. It always came back annoyed with redlines. Is it so difficult to understand? The stapled packet seemed to seethe through gritted teeth.
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Once the cap is removed, square your shoulders and hips to your workstation. Close your eyes. Suck the citrus spray deliberately through your nostrils. Do this a minimum of 3 times. No more than five.
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In 5th grade when it was time for everyone to be initiated into Confirmation, myself and two other Episcopal kids were cordoned off to the back left section of the classroom. A boundary reinforced by makeshift desk fortress. We came to understand much of life through this positioning.
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At the bottom of the third exhale. If your mind drifts to a tropical breakfast you had on a humid beach in Thailand 18 years ago, resist bending it back into shape.
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We sat on the floor and played jacks. The night janitor always forgot to mop. But we made the best of our lacuna. A cooked noodle smirk at stiff lasagna.
(To be Continued . . .)