Lucy felt her eyes misting up, turning traitor. She imagined herself on a barren 41 plain, post-Apocalypse, convulsing, waiting to die with the cockroach. He fended these things off from him with the rump of his fourth piece of cake. She would not look at him, would not think of him; when her mind wavered, then she muttered to herself in the darkness so as to keep hold of her generalizations.
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This video was uploaded to lexapro2020.live on 02-07-2024 19:17:11
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