He lived on the seventh floor behind a winding set of hallways that towered over her in their grayness. He munched his popcorn steadily, periodically offering it to her, but not his Coke, as that would be too bold, a saliva exchange. She was young and bright, little to no make-up except for lip-gloss, long, straight, glossy reddish blonde hair slightly past her shoulders. ’ So pat, thought Gerald. Me—I’m nothing but a country wench, and one who went to the bad.
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