himself sinking.
Sprout watched from the edge, pierced through the middle,
feeling more naked than ever. She did not want to die, she now
realized. She wanted to live forever. For ever and ever and now and
before, within everyone and all things.
“I’m a broken teapot,” she said, convulsing in wild delirium.
“The hole is small,” Izzy promised her, pressing his hands against
her belly to stem the flow of blood, “It just feels big.”
ABYSSINIA
352
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