Gyu

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“You got the shit pains don’t you boy?” she said. I smiled and shook my head like everything was okay and went into the bathroom all bent over and shut the door behind me. There wasn’t a lock. There was a hole in the floor someone had stuffed a bunch of trash inside: cigarette packages, used tampons, candy wrappers, old newspapers. “You’re fine. You’re fine,” I kept saying to myself, and I could hear them talking outside.
The Collected Works of Scott McClanahan Vol. I
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