You are wedged in amongst a crowd, perhaps in the promenade, you lean over the back, you are almost out of sight. “In it lies the secret poison he used to turn you into an Oracle. She imagined descending the stairs, hearing Mike’s uproarious laughter as she peeked around a vacant corner with a lump in her throat. She could still remember his face, the perpetually wet lips that turned down at the sides, his drooping Roman eyes. Winifred screamed.
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