Life is a patchwork of impressions, of vanishing personalities. The last thing that she remembered was her eyes crossing as she tried to focus upon the crunch of leaves as she lay heaving upon them, dampening them further with the outpouring of her sweat as it leaked from her clothing. The air was sweet with the smoky perfume of myrrh, hazy and dense with incense. This man was her husband in the eyes of both God and man. I’ve had my time and lost my chances. Originally in the first animals there were no males, none at all. ” He was suddenly resentful.
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