The oranges were of the Syrian variety, small but filled with scarlet honey. He munched his popcorn steadily, periodically offering it to her, but not his Coke, as that would be too bold, a saliva exchange. \" She handed the ticket seller, a boy that looked to be all of eighteen years old, murder money that she had stolen from Dawn Plote's dead son, five dollars. " "Oh, Jack!" cried his mother, falling upon his neck, and covering him with kisses.
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