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When I was a teen I had a rat. A white dumbo rat, with red eyes, who was blind. Her name was Fresno, like the California nightcrawlers she bore resemblance to.   
I believe that a thief lives in this yard. Somebody went in my house and stole my money. I didn’t catch the person red-handed, So I don’t know for sure who did it. All the people who live here are suspects.
My rats are sweet but they usually face defeat. When people judge their faces after previous disgraces. They did not ask to be rats.   My rats are playful but seen as shameful.
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