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| As I stand here... alone, memories of the fun you and I used to have, flood my mind... like so many sluggish salamanders underneath some rotting log. | |
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| Do you remember how we used to stomp the shit out of those salamanders? Then we would run off... carefree... and alive? | |
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| But now... my long lost wayfaring dairy-maid, thou hast gone away, like the salamanders of olde... | |
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| Yoo-hoo, the salamanders are dead, I went to the salt-lick for 10 minutes, and stop calling me 'dairy-maid'. | |
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