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a little brown book
finding the life of Alexander Shaw, a kind of serial story.
I had another heart straining day, certain that at any moment, something would happen. IT was the Solstice, not that anyone cared for anything but the advent celebrations which I could not bring myself to have any joy in, even for the twin's sake. In my defense, they were almost as apprehensive as I was. A feeling of gathering doom settled on my shoulders, pressing down until suddenly it broke, and it felt like nothing at all. I knew , in a way I couldn't define where Cedric would be that night.
And I had to be there, as well.
When I closed my eyes, I could see the scene, myself, and the twins, in the deepest darkness of the longest night, and Cedric, impeccably clad, looking superior as was his want. That image played itself over and over. Until I knew I had to go.
But I would not bring the twins.





 
 
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