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Weekly Contest #52
Lakewood, CA. 1962. There was something ever so fascinating yet nail-bitingly intrusive about spying on your neighbours. It was a guilty pleasure of mine. An obsession if you will. The drama that unfolds in my neighbourhood has me gripped at the edge of my seat nearly every day. What else would a lonesome housewife do whilst her husband went to work six days of the week? I had baked every kind of pie, knitted every type of scarf and cleaned the house right down to the last polished silver spoon. It was a Tuesday; Raymond had just graced my...
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