\"Carry your books for you?\" He asked. It was the same smell that she had in his memory, but now it was definite, palpable, like a perfume. Every eye seemed focussed upon her; and yet she had known the sensation to be the conceit of her imagination. She would take the items with her; bury the items and her bloodstained clothes in one of the many sinkholes in the huge landfill/garbage dump on the south side of town. ” Michelle said.
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