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A baleful tail twitching in an unlit room.
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It is twilight now, and I am comfortable in bed. Through the window downstairs, Margot watches cherry blossoms blow down the street. Making sighing sounds, like a comb through hair, or hunger, or wind - weaving through a cemetery, pausing... A cool caress on concrete headstones in the dusk, or a whispered "Goodbye, love."
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