I really can not sleep at all. Sometimes after midnight, Carlos brings out this great platter of meat loaf and freshly mashed potatoes, a bowl of creamed spinach, and a basket of warm rolls, and butter. He hands me a frosted stein of Heinekens. And sets on the table a deep-dish apple pie with a huge, heavy wedge of extra sharp Cheddar.
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Then he totters off to the couch where he instantly sinks into deep and enviable sleep.
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