"Where am I?" she cried, passing her hand across her brow. She marvelled at his apparent imperviousness to the heat. Gerald glanced down and saw her dash at a spread of blood on his own hand, only now realising that her dagger had found its mark. ‘Monsieur, my wife intended not to anger you,’ he said in a tone of apology. Oh, the scent of the flowers that day, the delicious quiet, the swallows that dived before us in the river. Inside was the blue stone she had lost in the 1800’s. “I see nothing of my sister,” she said.
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This video was uploaded to waterscolumns.info on 04-07-2024 10:05:36
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