The dream flowers and is harvested, and we are left by the wayside, having served our singular purpose in the scheme of progress: as the orange is tossed aside when sucked of its ruddy juice. . “Certainly I was a little way off at the café, and she had a hat and veil on, but I could have sworn that it was ‘Alcide. “You’ll be there, right?” She asked, hearing his breathing audibly jump. " A prophecy which was to be fulfilled in a singular way.
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