“How can one hate a plague of locusts, or a packrat that lives in the walls? I don’t hate, I’mmerely an exterminator. But Labanotation wasmerely a Jackson Pollock jumble of arcane hieroglyphics to her today, instead of the carefulrepresentation of eurhythmics she had studied four years to perfect. His dark, dark, brown hair curled around his shoulders. He is my second in command, my témoin, Jean-Claude said, still in that empty, means-nothing voice, I would not lightly share him.
I let out a long breath, and it shivered, because I was afraid of this, afraid of admitting it out loud, afraid of it all. Right then, I didn't care what she was, I just wanted her to leave me the fuck alone. Wolfe), I keep being amazed to find I can go home again, and again, and again. Trust me, Jean-Claude that is a whole new level of practicality.
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