When the word “FREAK” appeared scratched in the persimmon colored paint on her locker, she knew that in some fragile young woman’s mind a war had escalated from imaginary to physical. ’ ‘That’s right,’ agreed the militiaman, coming forward to stand before her. She thought of an old abandoned barn that she could inhabit further downriver, but shrugged off the idea in disdain. En tout cas, I am not trespassing at all.
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