I’d rather die than hear any more fairytales. ” 152 < 19 > THE WINDS OF NOVEMBER The Thanksgiving season brought a fierce wind that relentlessly whipped around the brick corners of the school. Wood grasped his companion's arm to attract his attention to this unexpected means of escape. It was the first day you kissed me, under the willows, coming into Veraz. Rich folks, once. Abruptly would come the end.
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