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He slowly made his way to the house, a marionette guided by voices and invisible threads of malice.
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if you kill a man or a beast. You must take a drink of their blood or eat a lump of the flesh, to allow their soul to be free and at rest.
He lay down next to the man who had been raising him. The man who had beaten himself into him, one sermon at a time.
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His mother died with his father in a lot of ways. The warmth blew out like a candle.
He became an orphan who lived with his paper doll mother in a house full of salty shadows.
The sulfurous water stung the cut on his lip, but he drank anyway.
stinking water
The sun finished folding itself up, burned itself white and changed its name to Moon and he missed it all.
He still tasted smoke on his tongue.
“You can’t drink that water.”
I’m thirsty enough to drink the sweat from a fat man’s bellybutton.”
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