Cured Meat

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Why do those whispers in the scorching sun and loess make me think that "it will pass"?

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Story

Cured Meat

The scorching sun, barren fields. 'How about we trade her tomorrow at this time?' 'There's no other way, let's do it.' How fragile these walls are, like paper, unable to stop anything. 'Winter is perfect for preserving.' 'The weak should know their place and accept their fate.' 'It will pass, right? With you all here, everything will pass.'

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Category:Black Stories

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