No amount of scrubbing could remove the stains, the blood of an unknown man she had stolen from the scene of a car accident, a stupid drunk with no license who had wrapped his Chevy truck around a very large oak tree. The air was sweet with the smoky perfume of myrrh, hazy and dense with incense. It was Jack, wasn’t it?’ ‘Aye, s-sir. But the objects in his range of vision remained unchanged. “Come with me. The spinster saw herself growing warm again in the morning sunshine of youth —a flaring ember before the hearth grew cold.
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