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Friday, August 29
"May the road rise to meet you,
May the wind be ever at your back."
The long black hearse came speeding out of the driveway, nearly careening into the hackney. Don't tell me this is going to be one of those days, Sister Mary Helen thought, grabbing the car door handle.
"Cheeky, get!" she heard the driver mumble. Then, realizing that she might have overheard, he added a quick "Sorry, Sister," turning full around to check her reaction.
"Maybe he's late," she said, wishing the driver would keep his eyes on