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Daily Field Journal of A
“What is the definition of the word . . . ‘obsequious’?”I stared out the bay window in my room. It looked out over the kidney-shaped pool in our backyard. The ancient woman next to me cleared her throat, then made this choking sound. She spit up something into her mouth, and swallowed it. I was about to vomit.“Mr. Graydon? Obsequious.”The pink flash card fluttered in her spotted, gnarly fingers. I looked at the word. How did she print in such perfect block letters when every inch of her body was constantly shaking? She had all this excess skin under her chin and it hung so low it covered the collar of her flowered shirt.“Um . . . a