“…They, Them, Les Assassins des Fauteuils Rollents, A.F.R.s, the ones who come always in the twilight, implacably squeaking, and cannot be reasoned with or bargained with, feel no pity or remorse, or fear (except for a rumored fear of steep hills)…”
Really sad that I’m now approaching the halfway point because I don’t think I’ll be able to read anything else ever again once I finish this lol
— Nov 17, 2025 09:41AM
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