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the caterwaul of two engines

The hood of my Hyundai is dappled with the morning dew.

And in the late afternoon sun, the trellised balcony would throw a grid of shadow across his acne-covered hunchback.

When I whipped him gently with my sash, he made me say the cathected words. The cathected words! he'd beg.

oh amy, what threnody matters