The sky periodically pummeled her with hail pellets as she would pass through the deserted intersections. She felt her canines grow, the hunger consuming her. ‘Shocked you, have I? We weren’t mealy-mouthed in my day, my boy. To stumble upon the trail through the agency of a bottle of whisky! Drank queer; so his bottle had rendered him conspicuous. Perhaps he had lost his loved ones and was wandering over the world seeking forgetfulness.
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