Fifty

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Frank was bored.

He was so fucking bored.

He was so bored, you don't even know how bored he was.

Millie kicked her foot, asleep and snoring on his comforter in her little tan dog bed.

Fuck, was he bored. He had too much energy and it was making him restless.

He wished he could be anywhere else right now. Or anyone else.

He just wanted a change. He got up, grunting as he dragged himself off his bed to examine his reflection. He pushed his hair around in the mirror, trying to see if it would make him look any cooler or really, any different. He didn't know why he suddenly wanted to look better, but he did.

He ran a finger over his eyebrows, his nose, his lips.

Hey.

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