Many’s the bullets I’ve dug out of fellows in my time. As he proceeded, other painful reminiscences were aroused. A neighbor stopped by as the day wore on, causing her to duck and cower as he rang the doorbell over and over. “It is the same man, Annabel,” she said. We've got to get him to care. She turned to face him and he kissed her. Why didn’t I die? Why does God hate me so? Why does He not want me? I didn’t die because I’m weak, because I am cursed! I hate this poisoned world! But most of all.
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