Anne Rice - v1, Lasher

Stay away from our ilk and from our valley he spat in

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Unformatted text preview: o have milk, and I could not endure the fast, and the breaking of the fast for milk was my worst sin. I sometimes grasped handfuls of cheese and ate it. Any soft food was delicious to me, but the craving for cheese and milk was especially bad. Once I wandered into a field filled with cattle. It was sunrise and no one was about. Or so I thought. I went down on my knees and drank from the udder of a cow, squirting the warm milk out of the udder right into my mouth. When I had drunk enough I lay in the grass, staring at the sky. I felt bestial and ugly for what I had done. An old farmer came. He was in worn clothing, though neat and well mended, and his face was darkened from working in the sun. He whispered something to me, full of fear, and ran away. I got up and ran after him, lifting my robes so that I wouldn't trip. "What did you say to me?" I asked him. He then whispered something hostile, a curse perhaps, and fled away. I was overcome with shame. This man knew I wasn't a human being. And...
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