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I read and studied "A Good Man is Hard to Find" in the fall of 1989 in an English class at the University of Alabama in Huntsville. I worked part-time at a family-owned bookstore. I drove a brown '77 Celica. I dated a strange, wonderful girl named Telura.

And I remember the graceful, almost genteel way Flannery O'Connor would say truly disturbing things.

It's way scarier when it's smiley and soft, isn't it?

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