The infant’s body, now missing its pulverized head, was still twitching among the blood-soaked ruins of corpses. So am I. His arm entered the round window of the white haze of her vision, his wrist spouting blood in currents, dripping on the stone floor. Sheila knew that the Eat & Shop on the corner of 53rd and Oleson was a flimsy front for an all-in-the-family whorehouse. Mrs.
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