Cool and sunny, it seemed that God himself smiled upon that day, the sunbeams streaming through the magnificent arches dustily as the priest murmured in soporific Latin. “Those things are not for me just at present. “You underestimate your own sickness, and the ill humors that struck you may strike again. It’s my choice, Lucy. It was as if her finite human brain could only store a limit of information, details like hair color and fingernail shape easily jettisoned to make room for the nuances of a grin or the emotion of a shoulder blade. "But, though the storm has spared him, I will not.
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