I don’t play anything. She kicked him in the shin, trying to knock him off his feet. She was surprised to find how stored her mind was with impressions and memories of him, how vividly she remembered his gestures and little things that he had said. ‘Too late by the time I realised to what a dunderhead I’d pledged my friendship. The psychic vibration of him thickened the air of the room as if he were already inside. My nerves were in rags. .
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