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Fever

When he's gone she clicks the link, submits
her criteria through drop-down menus:
2 or more bedrooms under 500 K.
She waits for red dots to appear, a pox  
she hopes to catch. No unique questions here:  
do I want a lawn to mow? We would need a lawnmower.
Do I want a Korean girl in the lower, practicing her  
violin? No matter: no hits, at best it's three quarters of a mil  
for a teardown. Or an East-side special, kid sister with a lisp.  
Still, there's hope in the glow. She rejigs, she refines
her search, such fun at first, she knows she should stop when  
the rub turns raw. The grass always greener in Dunbar.
But maybe today there's a high enough ceiling.
Once more, knock wood for the happy ending.

RENOVATE

 

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