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Anna Beth

Anna Beth sat on the rails of the train trussle. A cold coffee in one hand and a lit cigarette in the other. Waiting for the 7:30 train. She knew then she had to go home to had to face what she had done. Anna Beth wasn’t sorry. She could see it now, the cops would be there waiting, he mother crying, “child what have you done!?” She knew what she’d tell her, “he walked in front of the gun.”




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