#306297 - Deciding that it was everyone else's loss and our gain, by six o'clock the four of us were deep in shots, an inadvisable yet wickedly decadent mix of apple sourz, tequilas and flaming sambucas featuring prominently. “Oh, but we don’t have a parcel,” she complained with a shrug of the shoulders and a pout. She arched and tossed back her head, golden hair ablaze with electricity.
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