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Weekly Contest #347
Jesse’s chest heaved up and down in violent fashion. Each breath like a bellow that had its own bass tone. Her skin was slick and gritty with sweat and salt. Jesse moved her eyes up to stare at her cycling instructor and simultaneously pressed her palms into the bike handles harder to get her butt in the air and get more momentum into her feet. The pace of the petals responded. Sweat dripped down her temple and Jesse shook her head so the sweat would find a path away from her open mouth. Michaela, the ever-enthusiastic cycle instructor, noti...
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