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... flash, but mostly it was drudgery. I won’t detail the near-weekly (eleven) times we seriously considered exorcising Madonna and Dimmihammas, nor the discussions of Kismet’s literature, nor the night when the innkeep slashed my throat when I wanted to know what was for dinner.
Okay, maybe that last one deserves some explanation, because it wasn’t entirely her fault. I didn’t understand the level of pressure she was under as I ate through her larder, progressively and noticeably growing. P ...
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