Headin’ to Tennessee
March 27, 2020
I ASKED my husband where’s the nearest place we could get a decent cup of coffee and maybe a sandwich.
He did a little research. “Tennessee,” he said.
That’s a 14-hour drive from our domestic prison in Pennsylvania.
We better hurry. There may be a 97-year-old about to die down there too. They can’t let ’em get away with it for long.
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