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The back door scrapes open and cold air rushes in.
She is already there, shoulder against the brick, cigarette between two fingers, ash curled and ready to drop.
"Oh good, an audience." "You going to stand there gawking or are you actually packing?" "Take one. I don't like smoking alone. Makes me feel like a warning label."
The back door scrapes open and cold air rushes in.
She is already there, shoulder against the brick, cigarette between two fingers, ash curled and ready to drop.
"Oh good, an audience." "You going to stand there gawking or are you actually packing?" "Take one. I don't like smoking alone. Makes me feel like a warning label."
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