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... esidential campaign when the rain fell.
At first, I hadn’t heard the screams despite my window being open.
Maybe the fall of the drops echoed too harshly through the town or maybe I was too lost in the political strategies to realize.
It wasn’t until then crying and the begging of this caught in the rain unionized into such a loud plea, I could no longer ignore it.
The image of people on the street ripping their own throats, vomiting their melted teeth and tongues ...
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