“That’s what we narcs have to do. "Aliva, your child perished with its father. For a while they stood there, silent, motionless, staring at the doorway where still a few strings of the bamboo curtain swayed and twisted, agitated by the Wastrel's passage. The Wastrel—as we call him—cannot play when he's sober; hands too shaky.
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This video was uploaded to jandlonmark.org on 25-06-2024 21:25:48
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