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| *thanks leanna |
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| His body and his mind went about their different businesses. The former, freed from conscious intrusion, breathed, rolled, sweated and digested. The latter went dreaming. First, of Manhatten served on a plate, sculpted in perfect detail. Then, of a waiter, speaking in a whisper, asking if sir wanted night; and of night coming in the form of a blueberry syrup, poured from high above the plate and falling in viscious folds upon the streetes and towers. -Clive Barker, from Imajica |