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I spoke to a man down at the tracks. I asked him how he don't go mad. He said "Look here junior, don't you be so happy. And for Heaven's sake, don't you be so sad."
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The toothaches got worse, she dreamed of disembodied voices from whose malignance there was no appeal, the soft dusk of mirrors out of which something was about to walk, and empty rooms that waited for her. Your gynaecologist has no test for what she was pregnant with.
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