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My Father, The Popsicle

Annie Reed

Published by Thunder Valley Press

Copyright 2011 by Annie Reed

Cover art Copyright Thierry Maffeis at Dreamstime.com


Smashwords Edition, License Notes


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My Father, The Popsicle

Annie Reed


Jodi thought she was an orphan until one sweltering Thursday night in late June when she received The Letter from Billingsly, Wendham & Owens, Attorneys at Law.

That's how she always thought of it after that. The Letter. Wasn't that how you were supposed to think about things that changed your life? Capitalized and important?

At first she thought the whole thing was a joke. She'd just worked a double shift at Hot Dog on a Stick in the new mall south of town. She was dead tired and sick of the smell of lemons, corn dog batter, and hot grease. Her head hurt from pulling up her hair under that stupid striped hat, her shoulders ached from all the fresh lemonade she had to mix, and to top it all off, the air conditioning had been out on the bus ride home. To say the bus had been fragrant was the understatement of the century. She was in no mood for jokes. Her roommate Harry had a pretty twisted sense of humor. A fake letter from an attorney was just his style, but tonight the joke wasn't funny.

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