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He tried to keep the look of anger as the old man turned to leave, but it belied the fear that slowly built up inside. His eyes turned to the scar on his hand and he stared as if waiting for it to come to life. The spiral was barely visible now, the points on the edge looked like freckles. He touched it, almost expecting it to be hot and painful.
He began to think as he rubbed the back of his hand. He had five days to make himself scarce. If she was back, so were the others.
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Don't blame me. I didn't vote for either of'em.
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