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Unformatted text preview: The music was playing thinly from the little gramophone. The window to the porch roof was open. "No, Michael, for the love of God. No. Don't do this to me," whis- pered Lasher. "What have I done, but try to live?" "You killed my child, that's what you did," said Michael. "You left my wife on the brink of death. You took the living flesh of my child LASHKR and subjugated it to your will, your dark will, that's what you did. And you killed my wife, you destroyed her, like you destroyed her mother and her mother's mother and all those women, all the way back! Kill you! I will kill you with pleasure! For St. Francis I will kill you. For St. Michael. For the Blessed Virgin and for the Christ Child you so love!" Michael's right fist drove into Lasher's face. Lasher caught the blow, staggering to the side and dancing around in a great circle suddenly, the blood pouring from his nose. "God, no, don't do it. Don't do it." "You wanted to be flesh? Well, you are flesh and now you'll know what happens when...
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This note was uploaded on 02/20/2010 for the course WRITING 220.200 taught by Professor Julie during the Spring '10 term at Johns Hopkins.
- Spring '10