There were no mourners. And through it all, like a golden thread on a piece of tapestry, weaving in and out of the patterns, the unspoken longing for love. . “That’s enough, Michelle!” Diane snapped in the ugly raised voice of the enforcer. “You have not seen your sister lately,” he remarked. The weather's been foul enough for the last fortnight, but I've never turned my back upon it.
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