Penultimate

It was Jasmine’s birthday.

“It’s my birthday!” said Jasmine.

She had been born seventeen years before.

“I was born exactly seventeen years ago!” said Jasmine.

Jasmine wanted to have a party.

“Yay!” said Jasmine.

“Darling,” said Jasmine’s mother, “your birthday is tomorrow. Go back to bed.”

“Oh,” said Jasmine. “Whoops.”

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