so in the worst of weather, do I dare to believe God steered me with great assurance to safety? Am I to believe that I've not died for a very particular reason? so what is folly, after all? I owe my Creator great thanks.
her story is finally coming along; struggling and screaming from the birth canal, swallowing air and bloating her stomach, turning blue, freezing softly, dead in the forest. there are worse fates: her's was an ugly one but there are always worse fates.
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