I’m turning into a big fat cow. The door popped open with a sigh. Die, indeed! We’re going to do work; we’re going to unfold about each other; we’re going to have children. Her moods were many and always striking. When the word “FREAK” appeared scratched in the persimmon colored paint on her locker, she knew that in some fragile young woman’s mind a war had escalated from imaginary to physical.
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