256 Lucy chose her words carefully. When he returned from pissing, he sat down with her. Paintings sold off the walls. But how long would she last, withering away to a desiccated pile of skin and bone? Round and round she would go. Under her feet lay intricate mosaics, and each warm hall was festooned in tapestries. “I remember,” she said, “that the first night I saw you, you spoke of my sister as your friend. Her body rose up to meet his in a cat-like stretch and she smiled.
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