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Weekly Contest #183
“I love you,” Allison Carter said to the girl holding a knife to her neck in the gray alleys of the subway station. Underneath the sun, the towering buildings and the gleam off the windows in the reflection of Allison’s sunglasses, there was the caricature of what she thought New York was like. People bellowed on their phones, paced past her without looking up, shouted in the corners, talked to the wall, and fell asleep on the floor. Every time while getting on the subway, ready to act confident and careless like she’s done this her e...
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