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She heard his voice screaming her name into the twilight as she fled, his cries trailing like banners, weaving through the breeze that had begun to gently stir the dew on the ground. ‘You! Tell this fool who is the keeper here to come to me at once. I can get into my clothes. You want to think for a time, to be free for a time. I thank God for the very skin that is peeling from your nose, for all things great and small that make us what we are. “Dear husband,” she murmured. She felt this was the sensible way out of this oddly sinister situation.
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