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Weekly Contest #95
Michael stood at the door. He had a belt in his hand. He looked calm, but all his emotions were visible in the hollow of his inquisitive eyes. You could see the rage in them. Rachelle was sitting on the floor with her knees bent. She was leaning against the bed and facing her husband. Huge drops of tears were streaming down her cheeks. They flowed freely as if begging for mercy from this man who had no compassion whatsoever. They were the manifestation of great helplessness. Her whole bod...
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