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“It unwound like a coil of string in his chest and he could feel it spreading to his fingertips, the dryness of his bones, the warmth of his blood. For nearly a decade, no one knew how much it hurt to be him.” — Mel Ingrid
It unwound like a coil of string in his chest and he could feel it spreading to his fingertips, the dryness of his bones, the warmth of his blood. For nearly a decade, no one knew how much it hurt to be him.