She was glad not to be baking in it anymore, or feeling the fiberglass splinters 64 invading her rear end from sitting on the bleachers. But don't let my name frighten you. ‘Hang it all, Mrs Sindlesham is right! You are two of a kind. That is what terrified her: the consciousness that nothing in her life would be continuous, that she would no sooner form friendships (like the present) than relentless fate would thrust her into a new circle. She looked about, watching a massive green storm cloud building in the west.
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