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A bad day to be bitter

They sat facing each other. Some had forced smiles on their faces, some had fake smiles, and there were people like Sophie, Rhys, and Raul whose smiles were a mirror of their hearts. They sat on a long bench around a table packed with various assortments of food.

Rhys was amazed by the festival and how they celebrated it. Each family brought with them coolers of foods and drinks, and they each laid out one delicacy on the table. And there were more tables than Rhys’ eyes could count.

He had been able to count fifteen before he was distracted by a girl who hung from his arm. She appeared to be drunk, but he could not push her away. Sophie gave him the pity look and then returned her attention to Raul, who was explaining something to her animatedly.

Music blasted in the background. Just sounds from locally made instruments and the occasional hooting of what Rhys believed to be a madman. Raul called it spirit music, and the hooting man was the most spiritual person they had in town
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