She had a bittersweet fragrance, like dusty books and honeysuckle. There was a pause, while the steel grey eyes sliced at her. Things seem to come rather easily. She remembered possessing it during the Gold Rush. The sky periodically pummeled her with hail pellets as she would pass through the deserted intersections. Idiote. You may have something to conceal, you may not. “There’s no one here except me. “Yes.
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