She had already killed more than she wanted to count, yet she had counted them still. . On a stool eight feet high sat a small boy in a faded blue cotton, his face like that of young Buddha. She could not speak. S. “When one is happy—I don’t like to think of them. The night was now profoundly dark. 84 < 12 > A SECOND DATE WITH JOHN DIEDERMAYER “Ding dong. He kissed her neck, moving down to her breasts, trying to consume her with passion.
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