“In this place, all succor, all beauty is merely mimicry. That’s why when you meet someone like me, you don’t know whether to be afraid. You don’t know if I will lead you to another iteration of your death or to a shortcut you might never have seen, a path by which you can avoid the mazes of corn or the corridors beneath the old plantation.”

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I Have No Wings and I Must Fly

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Mom's New Body