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Weekly Contest #127
Rose sat across the table from another poor soul seeking some small semblance of hope in this dismal world. She had spent the last three years conning people into believing her bullshit. Rose was a “psychic” or at least that’s what people thought. She was in her thirties, some might call her beautiful with long dark brown hair and pale green eyes set a little too close together, pale skin with a few too many moles and plump red lips. Despite all that she was single with only her dog to keep her company, Dexter went everywhere with her. He ha...
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