You’re a little late, you must remember, and we are punctual people here. Like a nightmare memory that returned again and again to haunt her. As though it was indelicate—it’s just a sort of shyness. They feasted every day and ate all sorts of fresh foods grown in the expansive gardens teeming with vegetables and fruits. She drank and drank until his body was a lifeless husk, as light as a mannequin, virtually hollow of all but the fluid in his bones. It reminded her of one of the old tales her mother Marina had told her about a sculptor named Farhat.
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