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Asleep In a Haycock

Jack got up at two O' clock. felt his breath - stopped. legs buried a foot within a sock without; he had gone about all day and fought the spray of bullets meant for a dashing hare instead a father with wisping hair sour breath and fragile heir had kicked a load of cold buckshot into the leg his bod had birthed novel and lurid cause for his tacit mirth.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2005

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