4. "Won't you take these?" For a space he merely stared at her, perhaps wondering if she were real. I’ve always had a sneaking desire for the writing-trade. The scent of cloying pine dust filled the air as floodlights shone eerily through the jungle gym of new wood. Then we can loiter and gossip to our heart’s content. ’ Gerald eyed her. My son went down after his death. ’ ‘You were quite as bad to me as I was to you,’ Gerald protested mildly, sitting down beside her. Her foster father, Larry, was the hard working son-of-a-bitch type with a disdain for suits.
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