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September 6 - September 8, 2025
“Whatever weapon you’re hiding under your pants, you should take it out,” I tell him. “It’s poking me.” His face freezes in an expression akin to horror. “I really don’t think you want me to take it out.”
That’s how the Sea Witch views everyone, with caution and suspicion, with hatred and keen calculation. He cares only for what he can take from others. He’s too afraid to let anyone into his heart again. And he has that mindset because he went through a pain like this—betrayed by those who claimed to be his friends. Like me, he was falsely accused. Like me, he was drugged, imprisoned, torn away from all sources of help. He had to save himself, through agony and endurance. Sympathy wells in my heart, tightening my throat. The back of my nose prickles and tears fill my eyes. The grief and anger
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I love him because I can’t help it. Because in the Sea Witch, I hear the deepest echo of my own soul.