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For cockroaches, particularly, the ever-enlarging dump was a great progenitive womb—warm, fetid, moist, with food so cornucopianly plentiful that everything crawling, creeping, and scurrying through the foulness could gorge to satiation.
He put Bo’s hands behind his back and slipped handcuffs on.
Bo complained, “How the fuck we supposed to get dressed with our hands behind our back?”
As Bo Leslie burrowed into the leaves for warmth, the prickliness began to soften under the weight of his body. The man pressed deeper down. It began to feel good, he’d be damned if his cock hadn’t found itself a place like the old butter groove. Hey, this wasn’t bad!
Beneath the pulsating streams of blood carrying his life out of him, the man felt as if metal saws were ripping across his body, not so much devouring him as a jungle animal might, but slicing him apart.
In human laws, there was the canon stated by Justice Oliver Wendell Holmes: Your right to swing your cane ends where my nose begins.
canard
None of the people on board saw the small blot that skittered on the Jessica’s scrubbed deck for a split second before disappearing in a coil of Elias Johnson’s neatly arranged rope.