The day was so darkly overcast that she had to turn on the small white porcelain lamp that sat upon the makeup crowded vanity. You can do it, if you will. He breathed heavily, as though he had been running. “Why can’t we propagate by sexless spores, as the ferns do? We restrict each other, we badger each other, friendship is poisoned and buried under it!. She set her fingers in the hair and tugged, drawing him to a sitting posture and stooping so that her eyes would be on the level with his when he awoke.
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