after midnight, the inactive neighborhood dog rested beside me in the middle of Mrs. Jones’ back garden. The flea-ridden canine let its falsifying imagination run free. Whereas I, the young man with his whole life ahead of him, was burdened with the mentality of a being who is beside oneself. Hour after hour, I would partake in a mental dispute over my actions of the previous day. “Maybe, what I did was for the good, after all, she is the condemned one of the neighborhood.” “Oh, what are you saying…
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