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Weekly Contest #378
Calista stood at the edge of the grave and wished she were anywhere else as gusts of wind blew her hair into her face. The day was cold and grey, just like the heart of the boss whom they were burying. The thought was uncharitable, Calista knew. But Markus Patterson had been a miserable human being. And it seemed like his last act on earth was going to be making them all stand at his graveside in gale-force winds and intermittent rain sprinkles while a pastor intoned Bible verses and spoke of eternal life. It just figured. She reached up to ...
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