Finished Folds (1—4)
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1He never forgave her. And when he retired from the stationery store he took his revenge, mailing a fresh and unblemished eraser to her apartment every day, till at 80 he passed on.
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5straddled cars and lorries. Eventually his legs broke from the weight of his densely packed body. It hurt, but what hurt more was the humiliation. Several passersby snapped photos
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4a vulgar word, and disco shorts were hot sellers. In fact the prime minister had his office painted in pink and gold glitter stripes and November 5th was renamed National
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5in him to grass, but I was wrong. The mob surged forward, desperate for my blood. Armed with only a sharpened wooden spoon, I lunged at the nearest gape-mouthed rioter, but