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Weekly Contest #47
“Your 7:30, Ms. Cortez.” Marleen, the brittle secretary says, after she opens the door. Ms. Cortez looks up at you behind the lone imposing desk. You can see the skyline of the city sprawled out behind her, but her eyes are glued to yours, so you don’t dare look away. “Come, sit.” she says, and motions to one of two grey leather chairs. You sit down, the seemingly plush chair turns out to be stiff and unyielding. You notice a pigeon sitting on the railing of Ms. Cortez’s private balcony. “Something interesting outside,” she addresses you, ...
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