For your reading pleasure, Tempest presents yet another exquisite example of romantic narrative
Ophidian Love in the Night
Waiting alone in the humble comfort of old Julies hovel, with the untamable fragrance of a new spring wafting in from outside, Sandy thought once more of former U.S. President Gerald R. Ford, the mysterious stranger with the large dog. He was now, according to the best salon gossip, drinking himself to death in the company of the hateful Peason.
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