” She found herself trying to remember all the old tunes her mother had taught her, as they were bright as little stars. She killed every month, twelve a year, and was for all intents and purposes a serial killer of middle aged men. Her eyes where glassy and shining. The by now familiar dramatic sigh came. So completely! The oddest fitness! What is it made of? Texture of skin and texture of mind? Complexion and voice. She had dreaded the beginning of this hour.
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