He folded the garments carefully and replaced them on the chair. He drove to his apartment, a second floor studio he 120 was renting above a bakery. His face clouded with anger. “Hey John, how’s it going?” “Hey Michelle. ” “All these things,” he muttered bitterly, “this desperate resolve to take your life into your own hands, your unnatural craving for independence, would never trouble you for a moment—if you really cared.
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