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The night was pitch black, dark clouds black as a tire smoke came rolling from the East, propelled by a cold sea breeze. By midnight, a storm had hit the town. The iron roofs rattled as the wind tried relentlessly to force it out the nails. Hail and thunder drumming to a loud off tune beat. Finally, the wind won the battle against the iron roof of an abandoned building; it sent the roof up and smashed it on the next building’s windows. The sound of breaking glass caused Greg to wake up from a long nightmare, he had been asleep on the wooden floor of his apartment. How he ended up on the floor? He wasn’t sure. All he could remember was that he had been drinking all alone in the local bar down stairs. He probably had been smoking too much weed to get knocked out like that.
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