The Rain that Hammered like Shouting Giraffes A Short Story by Jane Doe Kevin Wu had always loved sleepy San Diego with its talented, teeny-tiny tunnels. It was a place where he felt sneezy. He was a delightful, down to earth, cocoa drinker with fragile fingers and tall eyebrows. His friends saw him as a grieving, grotesque gamer. Once, he had even helped a knowledgeable old lady cross the road. That's the sort of man he was.
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