Tara Wood

Dancing atop the Cellarium Ceiling

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It’s said that nothing good happens after two in the morning Noah Riley stretched his ninety-six Corvette around an empty street corner. “Wouldn’t it be a stitch if you inherited the practice someday?”. He remembers his Grandfather William Riley saying earlier that year with a mischievous twinkle in his eye. He doesn’t recall finding it as humorous as his Grandfather might have intended it. He didn’t believe textbook methods cured anyone. “Yeah, a real stitch Grandpa “.

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