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"“ That’s when I see Lenore Dove. She’s up on a ridge, red dress plaster to her body, one hand clutching the bag of gum drops. As the train passes, she tilts her head back and wails her loss and rage into the wind. And even though it gets me, even though I smashed my fist into the glass until they bruise, I’m grateful for her final gift. That she’s denied Plutarch the chance to broadcast our farewell. “" — May 22, 2025 05:46PM
"“ That’s when I see Lenore Dove. She’s up on a ridge, red dress plaster to her body, one hand clutching the bag of gum drops. As the train passes, she tilts her head back and wails her loss and rage into the wind. And even though it gets me, even though I smashed my fist into the glass until they bruise, I’m grateful for her final gift. That she’s denied Plutarch the chance to broadcast our farewell. “" — May 22, 2025 05:46PM
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