A tourist caravan of four pole-chairs jogged along a narrow street. ‘Don’t look at me like that,’ Martha begged. Cut to pieces —slashed—bloodied. In her usual style, she interviewed him for his life and was pleased that he liked nothing more than to talk about himself. Never mind. Then he relaxed back a little, and let the weapon dangle from his fingers. Third period was Art, where they sat side by side at a table and carved linoleum for block prints together.
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