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The Biggins

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It was the biggins that startled me from sleep, in their nightly visitations. Sometimes a voice in the bath room and flushing the commode. It may have been the biggin that stomped on the stairs. Singing choruses of Johnny Cash. "Don't Take Your Guns To Town."

Perhaps it was the biggins riding wild horses into my room and screamed, "yee-haw!" Boot scootin' something  called a boogy.

But maybe, it wasn't the biggins that startled me from sleep. In their visitations and gyrations. More often my ma warming up the car, to take me to school. And learned The Golden Rule.

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