I think I need to. Well, that's one way of putting it. Or maybe I'm just prejudiced that dogs don't move with that same liquid grace when they writhe on their backs. Lately, the lines seemed blurry, or gone.
He laid his face against that roughness, and it was spicy and pungent, and I knew it was sweet gum. His rich, brown hair was nearly as curly as mine, and today his hair fell around his shoulders loose. I, on the other hand, had a problem. They wouldn't have gotten in a car with strangers.
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