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Weekly Contest #309
Rainwater drenched the concrete sidewalk, leaving the Main Street of Old Town isolated. Walking alone on Main Street, Martin kills the last of his cigarette and tosses the orange bud on the ground. He reaches into his pocket, grasping a pack of emerald green Newports which felt light in his hand. Flipping the top lid revealed he was down to only two sticks left. Damn, Martin thought, putting the pack back in his pocket. An old black Honda Civic passes the street, stopping at an intersection with a glowing red light. A black windshield wiper ...
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