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Prudence in Hell 055
Scares of the sort, at this stage, leave nothing but more of the same and the leftover planes I could have been another case of the same, although a different structural scandal. There are fewer who knew and so I had to sift through fewer gauges, but more of the same dark, defangled: why don’t you update me, I would rather note not Hexagram 2: passive-receptive. My Page of Pentacles involves a coin shared like a godsbody In middair between tongues and equals, an honour amongst thieves I cannot buy into having been left, onely on the receiving side of error, what happens happened making any final sentencing impossible. Nor can I finish your sentences, though I can hijack them. Freights of the sort, on this stage, are no cause for. Destress! And be left with the last names, with the quiver of yarrows you’ve cast, like dry spaghetti, against every wall that you could strike through —and there’s many— prowling through the airwaves where parallels park with the lights on, each lovers’ lane a killing ground and airlock. Mouth to mouth, we keep passing the same gun. I should eat something.
Scene of the Zodiac Killer's first crime; coordinates 38°5′41.61″N 122°8′38.24″W