She wondered occasionally why his mind needed so much distraction. His long struggle with himself, his avoidance of her were quite unnecessary. He glanced at the ruins of his High Priestess. “I”—he seemed to have a difficulty with the word—“I love you. One doesn’t want to lose a grain. The modern parts of the book were inspired by my worldview of high school as pure, unadulterated Hell. No; the future was not so dark; there was a bit of dawn visible. She moved her hand off of his knee, deliberately slow.
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