Martha, my Destiny or the Salt of the Dead Sea

“I am Robert Fabio from the agency Care and Trust. You have contacted our firm for help to get you Medicaid, right?”

“Yes, correct.”

“Basically, everything is fine with the documents. A few insignificant papers are missing.”

“You’d better talk to my wife about it. She runs our entire family office. Marrtthaaa!”

A minute later, a woman’s voice was on the line.

“Martha Greenwood on the phone.”

“Good afternoon, madam. This is Robert Fabio, from the agency Care and Trust. You asked us to help you get Medicaid for your husband, right?”

“Right.”

“I’ve looked through all your documents. All in all, everything is ok; only the latest utility bills and your marriage certificates are missing.”

“Thank you very much for calling, Robert. I will make copies tomorrow and mail everything to you.”

“Her voice is pleasant, not having lost its resonance.” Robert again tried to imagine Martha. Upon hearing her voice, it was even easier to do so: a dyed blonde with perfect facial structure, beautifully shaped lips. Fitness club. Shower. Her body is toned like a string, waiting for one touch to ring.

“If you want it to be quicker, I can meet you tomorrow during my lunch hour and pick them up,” he suddenly suggested.

“Are you serious? You are so kind. In that case, where would it be most convenient for you?”

           

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