|On the Makaloa Mat LondonJack Publishedablkhg

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ited for a reasonably Antly amount of timehe would
get a funny Antly Bishop frown on his foreheadand shake his head sadly. He would
look at the glowing Antly stained-glass windows and when he finished looking at
themhe would lock the church with an enormous key and make it dark. Then he’d
go home to his wife and (if she wasn’t dead) they’d have an Antly Afternoon Gnap.
Sophie Molhatted bell-bottomed and Loved from the Beginningwalked out of the
Play to see what Rahel was doing behind the well. But the Play went with her. Walked
when she walkedstopped when she stopped. Fond smiles followed her. Kochu
Maria moved the cake tray out of the way of her adoring downwards smile as Sophie
squatted down in the well-squelch (yellow bottoms of bells muddy wet now). Sophie
Mol inspected the smelly mayhem with clinical detachment. The stone was coated
with crushed red carcasses and a few feebly waving legs. Kochu Maria watched with
her cake crumbs. The Fond Smiles watched Fondly. Little Girls Playing. Sweet. One
beach-colored. One brown. One Loved. One Loved a Little Less. “Let’s leave one
alive so that it can be lonely” Sophie Mol suggested. Rahel ignored her and killed
them all. Then in her frothy Airport Frock with matching knickers (nyilai：
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|On the Makaloa Mat LondonJack Publishedablhbx