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Whenever I smell asphalt, I think of Maureen. That’s the last sensation I had before I blacked out; that thick smell of asphalt. And the first thing I saw when I woke up was her face. She said she’d fix my bike. Free. No strings attached. I should’ve known then that things are never that simple. Yeah, when I think of Maureen, I think of two... - http://szypulka.tumblr.com/post/30988167987

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