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. She sat on the edge of the bed overwhelmed, the roses cradled in her arms. This became very interesting. It was less will than education. “I too am asked. Come along, master. . 255 “You have a very talented son,” was her opening line.
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