What do I know, it just happens. This shot across the Talpa valley shows you where the snowline is. There’s a certain glory in this mess that’s helpful in a crunch, and am I not addicted to the drama, anyway? I spit on you, you ugly beast. (No, not this!) The days grow short but more intense. Less whine, more steel, the captain says, and kiss the girls on your way out.
Fingerpaint of God
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