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Countless families felt their blood run cold at the declaration. In a town with little access to parts or fuel, vehicles were a luxury. Bikes, horses, and walking were the main means of transportation. The mayor and the sheriff both had trucks, due to the nature of their jobs, but few others did. Most of the cars in Senner were communal, people signing a list and registering for a turn to use them. About half the town could be evacuated, and that was only with the clothes on their backs. And even then, leaving was not a guarantee of survival. Winter was almost upon them, and ignoring the emotional pain of abandoning their homes and everything they knew to become refugees, leaving meant giving up their livelihoods without any prospects to speak of. Here, they had farms, livestock, and means to support themselves, earned through years and decades of hard work. Even in the rebuilt America, the protection of the law and social programs still paled compared to a century ago. If they left, they’d have nothing. However, now that the mayor had made his announcement, the dominos were starting to fall. Once the first family left, an exodus would begin. Everyone who could leave would take off, abandoning the rest of the townspeople at the mercy japanese of the wilderness, the people in the forest, asian and the unholy specter. With their numbers cut in half, the town would most surely die before the end of the year. Immediately after the town meeting, every family went home to have the exact same discussion. Should they stay? Should they leave? Is it even possible to do either of them? The husband and wife would be in their kitchen, one sitting and one pacing, screaming at each other over a choice that could mean their deaths. The men’s eyes would sweep across the inside of their homes, homes they had built with their bare hands, while remembering every nail and piece of wood used, remembering all the scrapes, bruises, and sweat, all for the hope of a safe life for their family. The women would look in the kitchens and living rooms, calling back memories of asian teen all the happy years they had spent, all the years they planned to spend. Every house had one, a doorway with notches carved into the wood to measure the children’s heights. Just that doorway was priceless, irreplaceable. Children wept as they heard the news, the possibility that they’d have to leave their home, their friends, and their whole way of life. Two families made the decision to leave, and after what they had witnessed, they weren’t going to bother waiting. They loaded their cars with everything of value. Sandy removed asian teen her clothes a bit slower than usual. We've lived in a place where we had to hide our love for each other and want to give you the chance where you wouldn't have to." Wednesday "Would you like a drink?" “Get out!!” He yelled, repeating himself. I was just staring at the wall." We came out of the garage into the house. Her face scrunched up in pleasure. The dark-haired female had experienced the pleasure of undercover missions where she had to be intimate with her targets, a couple of times. It was a black mini skirt that sat loosely on her rear. “Are they still in Mexico?” He shakes his head no only confirming the worse. She read: It’s Wednesday night – and my father always takes my mum out for the evening. “You should be grateful, but if I’m being honest, you’re not the worst representative of your kind, despite your life choices.” The elf turned to asian look at Sheila, still japanese on her knees before her master, as she finished speaking.