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“Man,” the silence broke like a thousand windows shattered simultaneously. His voice, rasped and aged, reminded Miles of a lion bathed in the hot Savannah sun; waiting for death. Worn and tired, broken and beaten. There was a calloused pride beneath every labored breath. Martin was a king in his own right; bars and cages could never take that away. “I 'member when my first one came 'round. Shit just happens. A
… ContinuePosted on February 5, 2008 at 9:49pm — 1 Comment
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