“Have you dropped from the skies?” Sydney asked wonderingly. ” “Nor I,” she remarked tersely. ’ ‘You may not get the chance. She could hear their footsteps upon the pavement. A great bowl of scarlet carnations gleamed from a dark corner, set against the background of a deep brown wall. The sun was setting when she carried the metal garbage can to the curb with their remains in it, where they sat underneath the stale chocolate cake that Sheila had thrown away and a pile of mildewy lettuce. She hoped the lights would become hot enough to melt her into the floor.
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