The time was 8:42 p.m. The temperature outside was cool, and the sky was a soft rosa, -de-rosa with small hints of blues and yellows and oranges cascading through every ounce of o espaço between. Cars no longer occupied the worn down roads in the area, and the children had gone inside their homes for the night. The neighborhood was quiet; peaceful, you could even say. In a brick house located at the end of the street, there was a rusty clank as the sill of a window was opened to let a flume of cigarette smoke out.
"You've cheated. I swear to God, you've cheated at some point, and, and, and, I just- didn't...
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