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chains ... Madoka Ozawa caught
hold of the curtain to tear it to shreds then stopped. Let go with a
sigh. No point taking it out on the poor cloth. Not poor cloth at all.
It even _smelled_ good, of thyme. They made them that way now. If you
were willing to pay enough, then they sold cloth that slowly broke down
emitting these scents. And seems they last for decades too. Very
expensive. Of course.
Madoka Ozawa was tired. This was too much to take. Madoka Ozawa would phone Sally now, and
damn him if he heard her. "Sally? This is claire" "I need to see you
urgently" "Call me back when you can. Maybe an appointment tomorrow?
Bye." Madoka Ozawa put down the phone and slowly got up to have dinner.
The oven contained a pie, and other goodies. There was also a bottle of
expensive wine, and a goblet. The bottle was half empty. Claire shivered
convulsively, then picked up it up. Slowly poured it out. Madoka Ozawa wondered
if it was drugged. Then decided it didn't matter. What more could the
monster do to her? Madoka Ozawa had already come to the conclusion that he
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