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105

LAURA DIEGO- THE NIGHT OF THE PARTY

I had decided that Darlene Bernardo did not know how good she had it, as I stood under the lilied petals of the McKenzie Manor House foyer, desperately dodging the spirits of saliva the ornately dressed hens spat at me.

”Oh emm gee! Did you see Sophia McCulley’s dress? What is she cosplaying?” A bright-eyed woman I was meeting for the first time that night clucked to the woman beside me, her blonde hair glimmering in the artificial lights that I had painstakingly hung around the earth-sized driveway.

”The reject, drugged-up prostitute from Atlanta’s suburbs no doubt,” The hawkish-looking brunette beside me triggered with an air of arrogance that I had learned was accustomed to the elite like scales to a damn snake.

I shook my head as the blonde woman cackled loudly, deciding she had had enough of whatever it was she had been sipping the entire night.

I should have probably gotten myself one of those.

Colored glasses and fireflies trapped in a bottle
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