It had been her home for hundreds of years. ” He shook his head. I’m six hundred and forty-eight years old, John! I should have never seduced a young boy, let alone expected him to keep my secrets for me. Not a bark could be discerned on the river, except those already mentioned. You were with your mother, the two of you huddled like thieves, laughing at the silly women who tried to shield themselves from rain by cowering under empty baskets and shawls. She taught him how to sail a proa, how to hack open a milk-coconut, how to relish bamboo sprouts. If he was asleep, then she much regretted that she must wake him up. “You see the pointer?” he asked. Nicholas is dead.
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