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... ide him. "Store."
The girl’s eyes followed his finger.
Her face twitched. "..."
"That’s an outhouse, mister."
A very old one.
Crooked tin roof. Slight burn marks still clinging to the sides like battle scars.
But weirdly clean.
No rotting stench.
No mysterious puddles leaking from underneath.
Compared to the miserable outhouses nearby that looked as if they had personally offended the heavens, this one seemed... almost well- ...
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