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The French doors had been dismantled, and a new hallway led to the Rain Room, a red parlor whose sole window was not a window at all.
NEWYORKER: Show The Monster
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Atop Mr. Marin's ranch-style house sat two cars, an upended gray luxury model beside a red coupe with a smashed window.
WSJ: After Oklahoma Tornadoes, Rescue Efforts Focus on Survivors
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The front room of the shop had been filled with the smell of meat, and my grandfather had stood and looked around at the hams and sausages hanging from the rafters, soup bones and square bacon slabs in the cold counter window, the skinned red lamb with its sharp little teeth lying on the block while Luka cleaved the bone of the leg away.
NEWYORKER: The Tiger��s Wife