A moment after I said it, I was still cool and a little distant from what was happening, but I could hear it again, see it. It was all death. Stripping isn't a sin, Anita. Or was it six? Eight, Requiem said, or maybe more.
No, thanks, we got it covered, Owen trilled. I kept moving my arms until they were around his waist, and we just stood there holding each other. Stripping isn't a sin, Anita. I could still feel Jean-Claude all those miles away, but I was back to the here and now.
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