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Pretty Woman

“5, 4, 3,” The crowd said in unison through the streets of New York City. I had started against the stream of people, hoping I would make it to a cab before traffic ensued. The clusters of people were ridiculous and everyone’s cheerful mood just annoyed me half to death.
“2,” I heard and rushed towards a taxi, only ten feet away.
“1!”
Then all the comotion slowed, my thick glasses were pulled off and crashed against the pavement, but I didn’t seem to care and I didn’t know why. I felt a vibe, an essence and I looked up from the ground to a beautiful woman, hair almost snow-white and a glistening smile, she grabbed me by my pettie coat and kissed me, hard and intensely.
Her breath tasted like cinnamon and pumpkin, but refreshing and warm.
I lingered longer than she did.
She pulled away, said, “Happy New Year, sir,” and walked away with my heart, leaving me with my chest open, blood spewing out onto the dirty streets.

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