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Weekly Contest #49
Jean-Baptiste Campignon waited not because he wanted to, but because he was told to. He supposed those in the snaking line around him waited for the same reason, but he dared not ask. It might disrupt the delicate equilibrium of the system which already moved with such practiced glaciality that any irregularity was liable to bring it to a grinding halt. No one talked, and that was fine. There was no need for talking. Jean-Baptiste preferred it that way.Jean-Baptiste thirsted for much of his time in this particular line, and a vague awareness...
What the hell was Rodney doing now? Sydney opened her eyes to find Rodney dancing and talking to his Full Throttle energy drink. He was just beyond the freshly mulched palm stand where Sydney, Boz, Lorette, and Michah took their respite from the sweltering Florida sun. “Rodney, you look like a goddamn tweaker!” Sydney shouted, “Get your ass back over here before somebody calls the cops.” Of course, he wasn’t tweaking. They hadn’t been able to score enough ice for that lately - just enough to get by. The little bit in her backpack and t...
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