"Did you write it?" "No. I might utter a million, and still I doubt if I could make you understand. Wood again made his appearance in a more composed frame of mind, and, at his daughter's earnest solicitation, was induced to partake of some refreshment. She would take the items with her; bury the items and her bloodstained clothes in one of the many sinkholes in the huge landfill/garbage dump on the south side of town. Then I threw a bucket of dirty water on his face and said, ‘Listen, asshole, let’s get one thing straight. “I wish.
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