"On my return, I found the window open, and the room vacant. She heard his voice screaming her name into the twilight as she fled, his cries trailing like banners, weaving through the breeze that had begun to gently stir the dew on the ground. Anyhow, they didn’t run about so much. " Her son complied, and sat down upon the patch-work coverlet beside her. I never let her read stories, or have pets, dolls.
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