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Weekly Contest #31
Tampons. Motherfucking tampons. Gloria stomped down the road to the CVS, glowing neon-bright on the corner. After dealing with this shit for fifteen years, she should have a stockpile of feminine products, but, no, every month she found herself out. Gloria slammed a box of tampons on the counter. “Hey, Gloria. How are you today?” Todd asked. He had the slack-jawed expression of someone finishing the last hour of their overnight shift. “Wonderful, Todd. Freaking wonderfu...
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