She wasn’t really very angry, though her scrunched face and pursed lips resembling something akin to a dried prune, or possibly a saladito in their constant dryness from lack of moisture, may have said otherwise to the passing stranger with the whites of their eyes showing in amazement at the fact that with this strained look that she had not yet imploded on the spot or simply had a bowel movement on the sidewalk in front of the courthouse.
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