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Henry’s Confession February 20, 2015

Posted by The Typist in cryptical envelopment, The Narrative, The Typist.
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—You is from hunger, Mr Bones, I offers you this handkerchief, now set your left foot by my right foot, shoulder to shoulder, all that jazz, arm in arm, by the beautiful sea, hum a little, Mr Bones.

—I saw nobody coming, so I went instead.

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