Mytwosentences 160 (The Preston Tapley Chronicles)

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Mick had stopped and was standing bug-eyed amidst the overgrown straw of a long forgotten front lawn when he started to feel funny.

As the sweat began to surface, he pulled a crusty handkerchief out of his back pocket and haphazardly patted his furrowed brow.

(Continued fromMytwosentences 159)

(Photo: Edward Roads)

Written by Edward Roads

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