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Despite all that had happened, there we sat: drunk, dumb, battered but not beaten, and armed with little more than high hopes and low-grade pharmaceuticals.  Mike smiled his “Tonight, anything can happen” smile and I knew the little white pills were taking over.  It was time to make our move.

Continue to: Chapter 2: “Tanya”

A contribution to: http://dailypost.wordpress.com/2014/04/07/writing-challenge-fifty/#more-72221

 

 

 

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