I’M JUST GOING TO TALK

© Dana W. Paxson 2005

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I’M JUST GOING TO TALK

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The third day, their eyes leaking pus as if a microbe had exploded inside their heads, two of Andrew‘s beasts died. At the door, this time, he pushed past Leil. “Don’t worry, I’m not taking the gun. I’m just going to talk,” he said. “Goodbye. I’ll be back tonight.”

“At least go get Raul or Martin or Norwell to go with you,” she called.

But he did not once look back, his fury focused on the task ahead.

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