Oh, I grew fond of you as the years went by. Some of them are now buried at the bottom of the Thames. But, whether she likes it or not, I aim to be on hand to get her out of it. She could almost smell her mother’s attar of white roses and lemon verbena with the memory of the story. Sebastian dug through the viscous layers of foul-smelling clay with a shovel, each successive insertion creating an obscene sucking noise that ate at her sanity.
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