” Anna hesitated no longer. The sun was setting when she carried the metal garbage can to the curb with their remains in it, where they sat underneath the stale chocolate cake that Sheila had thrown away and a pile of mildewy lettuce. ‘Give me my pistol!’ Gerald shook his head, slipping the pistol into his pocket. They seldom arrive on the beach. A small handgun bobbed at the end of it, aimed at Sheila.
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