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squirmeliaI twirled around a lamp-post, copying the little girl I had seen just around the corner, who was spinning around the lamp-post repeatedly, but I did it just once, on the way to the station.
The next little girl who passed me explained to the adult with her, "If this was the right, there has to be a wrong. A wrong way."
The next little girl who passed me explained to the adult with her, "If this was the right, there has to be a wrong. A wrong way."