She would take the items with her; bury the items and her bloodstained clothes in one of the many sinkholes in the huge landfill/garbage dump on the south side of town. And always they were well satisfied. There was a wild light in her eye, and her straight hair was out demonstrating and suffragetting upon some independent notions of its own. The glass in the windows was broken—the roof unthatched—the walls dilapidated. "I'll tell you why," he said.
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