” The detective went down on his hands and knees. ‘Yes, th-there it is,’ she uttered, stumbling a little over the words. They didn’t talk about it much, but Mike had been through some eerily similar foster homes in Florida, the where he was born. He seemed to be about to move toward her. Checking an ominous cough, that, ever and anon, convulsed her lungs, the poor woman addressed a few parting words to her companion, who lingered at the doorway as if he had something on his mind, which he did not very well know how to communicate. No amount of scrubbing could remove the stains, the blood of an unknown man she had stolen from the scene of a car accident, a stupid drunk with no license who had wrapped his Chevy truck around a very large oak tree.
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This video was uploaded to ssibasmatirice.com on 17-05-2024 11:32:10
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