That’s my opinion, if you ask me. She looked directly at his face, his perpetually graying hair, his hawkish nose, his long cheekbones. The place was pockmarked with window-like holes everywhere—people were always 138 falling into them and breaking bones--it was for these lookouts why she had chosen it. My Mom and Dad were on the brink of divorce, what else is new, they still are.
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