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ECT

I see her march off resolutely to have the current run through her brain, temple to temple, the path juicy and easy with extra serotonin.  The winter woods are bare, and the cozy houses can be barely seen chatting and musing on their private properties behind many trees near the road that leads with determination to the hospital.  Deep within her there is a small music box from which her aunt’s face has been ripped.  Her father’s wellbeing throbs inside where the current cannot reach.  She will protect him forever.