Slime is everywhere, most notably if one is an habitué of the gas bar in a well-traveled area.
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roaming
Somewhere on the road
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I had a feeling that someone was watching from the leftmost second-floor room, so I departed.
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“Palm trees don’t whisper. They rustle,” she replied.
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If you thought public rest areas across northern Ontario were just plain silly, you shouldn’t complain, because at least you had a tree to hide behind.
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