The scent of cloying pine dust filled the air as floodlights shone eerily through the jungle gym of new wood. “Morning, Mom. Her safety lay in pretense—that what she saw was as a tale twice told. "I knew him at once. She finished the olive and looked up. Brown engaged in the usual browbeating and complaining he reserved for sections who came in late and soloists who left tempo behind like the leftovers of a Sunday picnic.
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