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Just another writer trying to get published in Chipotle.
The waiter informed me that I was bothering the other diners with my weeping.
When the scholar began reading between the lines, he was at first shocked by the plaintive simplicity of the hidden messages, then frustrated, then eventually bored as he inscribed them by hand.
He had started his murder spree on the very night I was born.
What kind of story would you like to write?
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