The sun was setting when she carried the metal garbage can to the curb with their remains in it, where they sat underneath the stale chocolate cake that Sheila had thrown away and a pile of mildewy lettuce. She moved her hand off of his knee, deliberately slow. Her wings were oddly weak, but for all that she could fly. Daughters were not like sons.
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This video was uploaded to ineel.net on 08-06-2024 13:21:40
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