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February 20, 2009
Standing in a darkened room with heavy red curtains drawn to keep the cold from escaping out into the humourless evening. A regrettable chill sits in his bones stoking flames of bitterness and loss as he recounts his younger years when pleasure was easy and cheap. When pleasure reclined into love one frigid autumn evening. When her loose gown slipped silently from her shoulders and carameled onto the floor. The hunter caught the herd and plucked his doe. He fell sweetly into her arms long and small but fell farther, then farthest. Now he stands in this darkened room alone.