The massive door was unlocked, and they entered the cell. ” And she pressed her lips together in white resolution and nodded, and she was manifestly full of that same passion for conflict and selfsacrifice that has given the world martyrs since the beginning of things. “She found my collection of witchcraft books under my bed and threw them away. It was as if her finite human brain could only store a limit of information, details like hair color and fingernail shape easily jettisoned to make room for the nuances of a grin or the emotion of a shoulder blade. The knots and broken pale that made the garden-fence scalable, and gave access to the fields behind, were still to be traced.
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