We’ll find a way to survive. Tonight Lucy doled out outré physiological theories of boys and their overactive hormones. She kicked him in the shin, trying to knock him off his feet. The shops were lighting up into gigantic lanterns of color, the street lamps were glowing into existence, and she had lost her way. Mr. ‘Do please continue,’ Gerald begged, deceptively docile. Suddenly, she heard the crunch of new feet on the gravel.
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