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When he touches a wall the ooze grows thicker, drawn to his and as if he’s become a gravity well for the darkness – and it occurs to me that the dark must be in love with the light. Yet one must always kill the other.
When he touches a wall the ooze grows thicker, drawn to his and as if he’s become a gravity well for the darkness – and it occurs to me that the dark must be in love with the light. Yet one must always kill the other.
