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’ Then she came closer and put her hand on his
chest so that it rested on the braid that decorated his scarlet coat. “Uh, can you get me a soda or something?” She said,
shielding her exposed teeth with her hand. “Have you dropped from the skies?” Sydney asked wonderingly. She wanted to think of him as her
beloved person, to be near him and watch him, to have him going about, doing
this and that, saying this and that, unconscious of her, while she too remained
unconscious of herself. She was
not a reversion to type, which intimates the primordial; she suggested rather the
incarnation of some goddess of the South Seas. She could feel her body rebel against her actions,
convulsing, so she forced herself to think of her mother
in Heaven, her mother's beautiful face, the sun dancing
across the rivers of her home. Her specialty is the central thing in life, it is life
itself, the warmth of life, sex—and love. “They’re all doing great. The only mercy you can show me is to
kill me. Perhaps my wife
has already prepared you for what I wish to say. "
"Would you be angry if I offered it to you?"
"Very.
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This video was uploaded to flood-rescue.com on 05-07-2024 23:10:36