Returning home after a concert, we were shocked to discover that someone had broken into the house. All the drawers were hanging open, and items were strewn about haphazardly in every room. On the desk in the music studio, we found our kitchen butcher knife. We were glad the burglar had made a swift departure out the shattered kitchen window in the back, landing on the garbage can he’d originally used to hoist himself up. Nothing of great value was taken -- mostly costume jewelry and odd trinkets. So why did it feel like our house had been raped?
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"Classic"
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