Rosalind Black

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But I couldn’t sleep. My thoughts ran over and under each other, stretching and churning, as if my brain were trying to pull taffy. I’d swear to myself that there was nothing I could do, that I was going to stop thinking and go to sleep now, and then ten minutes later my brain would be going again, jitter-flop, jitter-flop, like a three-legged frog on a griddle.
A Wizard's Guide to Defensive Baking
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