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... p on watch. I tossed the firewood Drunk had gathered into the flames and stared into the campfire.
As the flickering flames reflected in my eyes, I tried to control the turbulence in my mind with the aesthetic of letting go.
Like some homeless gang leader with no house and no coin.
If the fire had stirred up my madness, I might’ve dashed off into the night and scoured the dark for that ventriloquist bastard babbling at us—but tonight, I didn’t.
It wasn’t easy, but ...
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