The modern parts of the book were inspired by my worldview of high school as pure, unadulterated Hell. “Quite unusually cold for the time of year,” he said. —'How so?' says I. He died in the war. Her fingers clutched the side of the door as though to steady herself. Coolly and gingerly, she kissed it as it stood at its hard angle from his body. The mode of destruction makes no difference.
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