” Lucy commented as the mud was smoothed around the grave site. Ten thousand islands, and each one good for a night's rest. Dead or alive, I'll have him. She was glad not to be baking in it anymore, or feeling the fiberglass splinters 64 invading her rear end from sitting on the bleachers. I. “Katy Pfister. And through it all, like a golden thread on a piece of tapestry, weaving in and out of the patterns, the unspoken longing for love.
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