“I think that I will leave this letter for him,” she said. He was a good foster dad that had never so much as leered at her, not even once. An entire forest’s array of meats was served in courses brought out to the table. Then the dagger’s point came in a whirling arc towards his face. Oh, the scent of the flowers that day, the delicious quiet, the swallows that dived before us in the river. A fortnight passed, then a month. It had felt wonderful to pick up the fiddle again.
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This video was uploaded to waterscolumns.info on 26-09-2024 06:08:17