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Lally
Failure was - well, a failure. She'd never been able to keep a man,
and she'd never managed to get out of waitressing, and now she was over
40 and looking 10 years older, despite trying to hide her age under
youthful make-up.

Her daughter Lola was a miscreant who never listened to her advice,
and was growing increasingly aggressive.

Really, the only thing she was good for was taking care of Mali, Lally's
younger daughter.

Lally didn't like the squalling brat, as her conception marked the last
time she actually had sex with a guy. After that pregnancy, her body
never grew back into a pleasing form, and she had since had to pleasure
herself in other ways, which were not as satisfying as the real thing.
Who cared if the little thing cried for an hour or four?

Well, apparently the neighbors did - and that's saying something, considering
the neighborhood Lally lived in.
Lola's reaction to finding out that her sister had been taken by the
social worker was disturbing - she actually became violent. Really,
Lally was glad to see her running away from home after that!

And good riddance to her, because anyway, Lally had finally found someone.
Sure, he was looking somewhat strange, but he was so mesmerizing - he
listened to her, he cheered her up when she was distressed, he was just
all-around wonderful.

Although, it would have been nice if he had helped her when a fire broke
out in the kitchen, and then when the fire spread and she was caught
in it, and when she was howling in pain and choking on the block smoke
as her vision was growing darker and d..ar..k...e.... r...
The fire burned long into the night, and in the end, nothing was left
of the kitchen but ashes.

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