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He looked out of the window, a quiet understanding that his life would have been less had he died without witnessing another corner of the planet.
Unashamedly lazy, he required little exercise to uphold his cynical nature. His modus operandi was to sit in front of the fire and drink condensed milk with whiskey in it. He used to accompany her to the odd evening of attribution and liked to break wind when he was ready to leave, behavior Evelyn told her friends she too would eventually adopt.
