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At PlayAt PlayAt Play
Whenever I smell hot tar it is recess in early April and the construction workers are leveling the road outside the fence.
I'm sitting at the bench observing the other children frolicking with enthusiasm playing a game of tag.
But this is not my story My story is serpentine, fiendish yet so captivating oh, so captivating
The children, werewolves. Blissful in the diversion of light and devious behind closed doors Their faces confuse me But then again they only need one....
by ~Florazulx
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