“How are ya, buddy? Good job at the concert. He could see lust virtually dripping from the dark-haired boy’s maw as she teased every last note from her shuddering violin, the devil in a black skirt. He drove her home that night, kissing her again and again at stoplights. Vorsack would staunchly disapprove of his attire, said nothing anyway. Dieu du ciel, but where was Gerald? On the move again, she found herself standing before one of the mirrors, gazing into her own countenance without seeing it.
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