Finished reading 'brown recluse' and it's still needling my heart.
Its buoyant writing style was most beguiling and has left my insides feeling a bit unstructured.
What oh what?
I didn't wish to see what came in the end and as I set at my desk, expecting a wicked chuckle for tables to turn, I was rewarded with a grim finish that was lovely.
Something like the helpless beauty of a dying dragonfly.
Hearts..and thanks
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