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The Apartment #17

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With a soft click her door shut behind her. She almost fell against it as she leaned back and breathed a silent sigh of relief. Weekend nights at the diner were a killer- always tiring, even Sunday nights.
In darkness she removed her coat, walked to the window, closed the curtains, then back to the door to switch on the light.
She preferred nightshift. No official visits. She was anonymous. Just a face and a pair of hands. She stayed under the radar. Better that way. No friends, no questions. Just money to pay her rent and buy her food.

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