The dream flowers and is harvested, and we are left by the wayside, having served our singular purpose in the scheme of progress: as the orange is tossed aside when sucked of its ruddy juice. " Neither man spoke. ’ ‘Yes, but how are you going to find her?’ ‘I will ask—’ She broke off. ” She replied. “Then why go out with him, Michelle? Why belabor yourself?” Lucy questioned. It was not as bad a wound as she had at first thought, and the blood was only oozing now.
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