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Shadows across the old dusty floor.
And then, finally, there were none.
She looked, the cubbard was bare.
They left me up there alone.
This trick hasn’t worked in years.
Two bottles, past drowned, left behind.
Where did the third bottle go?
Only the smell of fried dreams.
What was left… after she left.
Rat poison. Wiskey. Grandma killed Grandpa.