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... itializing...]
It pulsed steadily over the dirty, spray-painted bricks, an impossible sight.
My heart pounds hard against my ribs. Thump-thump-thump. Too fast. My breath sticks in my throat. The cold from the damp pavement soaks deeper into my jeans. The alley stink – rotten oil, pee, garbage – feels suddenly sharper.
"Crazy," I whisper. My voice sounds thin. Scared. "Definitely crazy. Or maybe I hit my head when I slid down."
I squeeze my eyes shut tight ...
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