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Home Home to DeeDee Diego a guava scented woman with the disposition of a Brillo pad. The house gave a familiar moan whenever she left as though she were the anchor holding onto its very existence - she went once a week to refresh her soul with a sea bath. An ocean dip she religiously took a stone’s throw from the house where she floated in an otherworldly, upright sitting position, shoulders buoyantly above the water, poised as if being served cake and tea.