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About Newcastle

I’d be strollin’ downtown, mutterin’, “Hmm… where’s the action?” Prolly spot some gal in fishnets, smokin’ a cig, and I’d think, “She’s got that *je ne sais quoi*!” Like in the movie, when Adèle says, “I miss you, it hurts.” That’s me, missin’ somethin’ wild, but I ain’t even started yet! I’d be nervous, tho—heart poundin’, palms sweaty. “Marge, chill,” I’d tell myself, but nah, I’m a mess.

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Now, the quirky bits – oh golly, remember that cracked lamppost on Birch Avenue? People babble about it. Folks say it’s cursed with old family secrets. I laughed ’til I cried when I first heard, but as the years piled on, it felt like a relic of every unsaid word and unsent apology. Crazy, right?

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