just furtive meetings. I’ve muddled all this business. The day was so darkly overcast that she had to turn on the small white porcelain lamp that sat upon the makeup crowded vanity. She went about the gory business of disposing of the bodies, cutting them up with a large butcher knife and packing the light dry pieces of their bloodless remains in a double ply garbage bag, pieces that looked like overcooked, ruined meat. “This party must be so boring for you. You've saved my life. ” “You have her face and figure,” he muttered.
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