She stumbled through a thorny copse, her slippers sliding on patches of sand that gave way to rock. “Take her limbs again. Not once during the ceremony did the two look at each other, but riveted their gaze upon the lips of the man who was forging the bands: gazed intensively, as if they feared the world might vanish before the last word of the ceremony was spoken. Niece and aunt regarded each other for a moment over their pockethandkerchiefs with watery but antagonistic eyes, each far too profoundly moved to see the absurdity of the position. We’ll have some buttered toast. She donned her gloves. My uterus and my ovaries are gone. The books would be soaked and ruined in the rain anyway through the thin skin of the pack. I'm not particular what or where. One day it was gone. “He seems like such a nice boy.
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