“Sorry to bother you,” Emma repeated again. “It’s okay,” I smiled at her, “If anything happens again, call me.” With a wave of my hand, I turned around and walked down the street. It was a warm April day; a light breeze gently touched my face and body. I passed Jefferson Street, past the magnolia bushes. A sweetish smell hit my nostrils. Jackie lived here; she was my mother's work colleague. Once I was fixing her laptop too. Jackie is about 40 but have a very youthful appearance. An image flashed in my memory: Jackie in a white top and short...
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