Editing Truth Is A Double-Edged Sword

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&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;"Go armed," he said, cradling his rifle, and rolled over to face the door.<br>
 
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;"Go armed," he said, cradling his rifle, and rolled over to face the door.<br>
 
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;How many nights had he slept like that? I wondered, feeling his eyes on me as I quickly pulled on my usual suspects. Tee and vest, shoulder rig and coveralls. I checked the chamber of my pistol and my conscience stabbed over the Tokarev's loss. If Mike had noticed, he’d made no mention of it and I added it to the list of topics we needed to discuss.  But first, some air. I holstered my gun and pulled open the door and stepped out into the cold summer night, the stars blazing blue-white overhead.<br>
 
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;How many nights had he slept like that? I wondered, feeling his eyes on me as I quickly pulled on my usual suspects. Tee and vest, shoulder rig and coveralls. I checked the chamber of my pistol and my conscience stabbed over the Tokarev's loss. If Mike had noticed, he’d made no mention of it and I added it to the list of topics we needed to discuss.  But first, some air. I holstered my gun and pulled open the door and stepped out into the cold summer night, the stars blazing blue-white overhead.<br>
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;I closed the door and put my back to it, crossed my arms and planted a foot on its hewn surface...and tried not to let the conflict in my head get the better of me.  Mike had issued a challenge and I had to answer it. Stay on the ''Gift'' and lose him, or leave the ''Gift'' and stay.  I looked at the stars and recalled another night on Salisbury when I'd suffered the same choice—torn between two opposing forces--and asked: <br>
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&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;I closed the door and put my back to it, crossed my arms and planted a foot on its hewn surface...and tried not to let the conflict in my head get the better of me.  Mike had issued yet another challenge and I had to answer it: Stay with the ''Gift'' and lose him, or leave the ''Gift'' and stay.  I looked at the stars and recalled another night on Salisbury when I'd suffered the same choice—torn between two opposing forces--and asked: <br>
 
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;''God, what am I going to do?''  
 
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;''God, what am I going to do?''  
  

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