I’m sorry to hurt your feelings. The sun was setting when she carried the metal garbage can to the curb with their remains in it, where they sat underneath the stale chocolate cake that Sheila had thrown away and a pile of mildewy lettuce. Before she put on her sun-helmet, she paused before the mirror. ’ She looked up again and smiled sweetly. What of Gosse, whom those soldiers had allowed to escape? Hiding—or perhaps gone. “Women are mocked,” she said.
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