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Summer Skye
Sylvia wound down the window on the Mercedes station wagon. “Bye Harry, goodbye Tom, bye Bub.” Cliff said. “What’s for dinner?” He asked Sylvia. “Moroccan chicken,” his wife replied. “I won’t be late,” he said, before watching as the Mercedes commenced the journey back to town. “Well played Cliff,” the club secretary noted, as he passed by Cliff’s truck to head for the Pavilion. 'Old Errol loves his beer,' Cliff thought to himself, as he walked around the back of his polo truck....
Taboo