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A showcase from the Way-Back-When and the Come-What-May. Fictional narratives in fact and in thought.
tarnishedpilgrim@bradleywynne.com
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From across the communal yard I can hear the children singing, can hear the rhythm of the punishment cane as it marks the beat for their song of hope and Motherland. So this is how the Intendænce stores them, this is how they love their children; how fucking dare they presume to call it home.