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Frank stroked the mongrel by his feet. “It’s okay,” he said. “Everything’s all right.” The dog stilled. Not knowing any better, it believed him.
He kept his eyes on one single moth. It was the color of nothing you’d notice.
Maybe he’d lost his marbles because he was telling the truth. How about that for an unpleasant possibility?
Her heart aches for Tiffany. An unfairness and a randomness knits into the fabric of everything and it inspires as much awe in Lila as it does resentment.
