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About The Book

...Emily had not yet put on her dress but was already on her second pair ofpantyhose having discovered a run in the first. The dress still protected bythe dry cleaners clear plastic bag hung from a hook on the closet door.As she walked toward it she felt a squishy soft dollop beneath her footand lifted it to reveal a foam rubber plug like the ones she had stuffed intoher ears last night when Waylon began to snore. Or it could have been BoDiddley. In any case covering her head with a pillow had brought no reliefand without switching on the light she had rummaged in the bedside-tabledrawer. There were about eight in the little bag and in her semidormantstate she must have fumbled one onto the floor.A few minutes later she finished and then studied her reflection in thefull-length mirror. Even though this shimmering cranberry-colored shiftwas in fact her favorite dress and one she had had for years she wore it onlyin December. She took up coat scarf and small evening purse and movedto the living room where she turned off the overhead leaving the room indarkness save for the tree lights and waited to the strains of Respighis Laudto the Nativity....
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