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RE: The Dying Body Chronicles 27: Bidding my time
He hasn't met me, hasn't scaled Mount Washington, hasn't bathed in Saratoga Springs. I'm sure there is plenty sweetness he has not tasted.
He hasn't met me, hasn't scaled Mount Washington, hasn't bathed in Saratoga Springs. I'm sure there is plenty sweetness he has not tasted.
Maybe, but know his tongue
is swollen black, spit thick as sand.
His taste has died.
He bids his time.