He was now absolutely sure the man hadn't been drinking — it was fear (and maybe exhaustion) rather than booze that had made him unsteady on his feet. I’ll keep my eyes closed, I’ll dampen the breathing. Even when life was running out, it seemed. Perhaps she held her nose, like a kid cannonballing into the community swimming pool.
Pete, with his broad, olive-tinted face and his shamefully short hair, mandated by his father, who said he hadn't fought in Korea so his kid could look like a hippie. Probably never happened to a Mr Perfection like your honored self, but to the rest of us . Got to have a megaphone, he thought. He was curious — he supposed a man couldn't help being curious — but at the same time he didn't want to know.
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