Behind her stood Caliban, chuckling to himself, and grinning from ear to ear. She crouched beneath a stump, her extremities twitching as the sun set orange and blue beyond the lace of iron-black trees. Then she raised the glass nearer to her lips. Nervously he pulled alongside the dilapidated oncewhite farmhouse. Enschede: no human emotion should ever again shuttle between him and God.
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