The dream flowers and is harvested, and we are left by the wayside, having served our singular purpose in the scheme of progress: as the orange is tossed aside when sucked of its ruddy juice. ’ Turning, she climbed over the low haha wall. Applying his ear to the keyhole, Jack listened, but could detect no sound. “I was lonely. This will be safer than cutting his throat on shore. Wait a moment. I’m glad you could come. “Come on in. My natural parents both died a very long time ago and I have been on my own for a great deal of my existence. This is something above all rules.
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