Winds returned, the gardens withered, and roses would not bloom. She cut a deep gash into her own arm with a steel screw, loosing drops of her own blood onto the floorboards. All her protests seemed stifled before she could find words to utter them. There was a brief pause, a crowded pause, between them. " Darrell returned no answer. . ’ The girl bit her lip and backed a little, while her husband shifted to stand at her side. Other phrases returned now, like echoes. It was the same smell that she had in his memory, but now it was definite, palpable, like a perfume. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any word processing or hypertext form.
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