shorter is better
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The girl looked over at the dog she was painting. It was still. Perfectly still. Its head flopped slightly and she frowned, keeping it up with a stick. The blood dripped onto the stick. She smiled and painted the blood. The painting was finished. She looked out her window. She looked at a person. She looked at its beauty. She looked at the red hair. She took out her red paint. She set up another easel. She walked outside to greet her new model.