[ Behind Grell is the night sky. He's sitting on a rooftop. If it weren't for all the light pollution, you could see stars. ]
You're gone, aren't you?
[ Grell's expression is an unnatural mixture of grief, relief, and glee. His head undulates from side to side as he speaks, sing-song. ]
Like a pebble in my shoe. I walked for ages with that pebble
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It does include arts and crafts. Sculpture, you might say. And painting.
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Well...
Maybe!
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