Vacation spots, some miles south of Cancún, flying in on Aeronaves de Mexico, a corporate venture to be sure, and fairly soft, as wings and prayers go. But who's counting, only this lonely returnee, his briefcase in hand--a gallinaceous CPA--with a parasol against the sun. New Jersey yards, no doubt, transposed west--to Petaluma, with all the feisty argument: Arakana, Old Hungarian, Rhode Island Red...
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