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Tony

“You hear about down in Turquoise Park?” says the bus driver.

“I’m surprised they didn’t get electrocuted,” says the lady near the front.

“Hacked up all those Christmas lights. Ruined them.” The driver shakes her head. “Who would do that?”

“Electrocuted,” insists the other lady.

The bus driver finally processes this. “Yeah, you’re right!”

Tony can’t help himself. “They’d be fine if they used scissors with plastic handles, and it wasn’t–”

He flushes under the sudden suspicion of their glares. “–raining,” he mutters. Stupid, he thinks. He ought to remember by now that being sixteen is a punishable offense.