Human words wash and lap the door to the outside parts. So many of them, humans never stop talking, they must be descended from birds. No creature of the ocean would pour so many syllables into the wind, waste so much. Masuoka was wrong
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F is still mystified by her shrinking body. She eats as well as she did with Masuoka, drinking from the sleeping, from animals, daily from Claire. Claire is hers, F often rubbing her head against her knees like a cat
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