Avery, a failed man. His teeth were as yellow as the rose he had just found on his doorstep. "To Friendship", it said. His drab, sunken eyes stared about the suburb, and lo! In a window, waving at him, was a woman looking as dead as he, but yet she acted so lively. He coughed, and walking through her yard, he stood before her. Grease covered his shirt, he noticed. But she didn't comment. Grease built up in her heart. She had a week to order her affairs. Time to live, she thought.
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