Each arm of the blouse had the faintest of rings around the elbow, a stain that looked familiar. It would be too mortifying. Wood. What was his problem, she thought to herself. As usual, Lucy traced over parts of her experiences in her confidences with Shari, skipping lightly over her own 10 story as a pebble would over a lake. He's passed through some rough mental torture. The young man's imagination suddenly pictured the man as a rock, loosed from its ancient bed, crumbling as it fell.
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