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‘There are three things, and three things only, that can lift the pain of mortality and ease the ravages of life,’ said Spider. ‘These things are wine, women and song.’
Fat Charlie saw one thing with his eyes, and he saw something else with his mind, and in the gulf between the two things, madness waited. He could feel a wild panic welling up inside him, and he took a deep breath and held it in while his heart thudded against his ribcage. He forced himself to believe his eyes, not his mind.
The stories spread, and as people tell them, the stories change the tellers.
