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The Coonridge Digest: “As the World Melts”

by Freida Marie Crump

Greetings from the Ridge.

He was squat, chunky, and waddled more than walked. The little fellow had jowls that dropped down below his chin and he wore an expression somewhere between sadness and the desire to pick a good fight. His feet were splayed outward, making him look a bit like a duck on dry land, and his eyelids dropped so far over his pupils that

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