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… On the day his buddy blew his hand off on a sack of premature ANFO, The Miner wrapped the frizzled hand in his favorite flannel shirt and set it next to him on the bench-seat of his truck while his buddy sat passenger, bleeding more than he’d ever seen someone bleed and howling like he’d only ever heard from dogs.

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GO TO THE ANTHOLOGY >

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GO TO LITBOP >

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