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The dog was, in a sense, a gift of the gods. She killed a man who was squatting outside of a freezing brick shanty on the southern edge of Chicago as he waited for his dealer. Prior to the great adventure, her mirrors had been the still pools in the rocks after the ebb. She smiled at the sight of him, and thereat his radiation increased. Five hours later she tiptoed down the hall and paused at the threshold of what they now called his study. "Mind, I, Rykhart Van Galgebrok predict it. She twisted her fingers tightly.
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