It’s the poor dears who do, who know they will, know they can’t keep it up, who need to clutch at way-side flowers. It’s no good. Shakily, she rose with the sword and drove it through Rhea’s heart. She did not see the metal pole swing toward the back of her skull, nor did she feel her own blood spoiling her light hair after the dull crack of metal broke her flesh. I do not know. ’ ‘But you are bleeding like a pig,’ came the frantic response.
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This video was uploaded to fairlopwaters.info on 01-05-2024 07:14:56
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