The Bottom Dollar
Earl Miller died on a Sunday morning, sitting in his recliner on the front porch of the mobile home he'd lived in for twenty-three years. The neighbor's kid, a boy of about ten who was supposed to be mowing lawns for spending money, saw him first. Earl was just sitting there, head tilted back, eyes closed, the morning sun on his face. The boy thought he was sleeping. He knocked on the trailer...
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