At least I've still got my bones. And my blood rushing through my veins, although I think rushing is a ridiculous word for it. Perhaps skulking. Why skulking? Because it sounds vaguely like skull, I suppose. Word play is just playtime with mediums, with spectres and magicians in the dull luminescent quiet before dawn. Scent can drive you crazy.
I am alive and she sits cold. Rest in peace.
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