A hand emerged from the darkness and placed a steaming mug—Greg's favorite mug—on the table. "Drink." "What is this?" Greg demanded, starting to rise from his chair. "You can't—" He'd barely moved
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It was a muggy morning at Cozy Cottage Nursing Home, and the arthritis was bothering me pretty bad. Hurt to move. Hurt to type. Still does, matter of fact. That's why, when they asked me for an
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