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January 7, 2013
"THERE'S YOU WITH the niftet our shaman gave us at Aidengully Carouse. 'Six-a-penny, four-a-penny, make me your own,' he sang. Remember?"

"I do."

"Id smelled fig bread when he leaned in to augur his blessing. Then the niftet, right? Plucked from his purse, it so quickly corsaged..."

"And I stroked that blood-white beauty while you jingled over tokens, and then..."

"And then the shaman flew."

"It was like that."

'My heroes,' you teased."

"Yes."

"Then that other shaman, for those kids in their foils. Special Wish, he sang. Guessing all they rated was a rose."