I don't know how I knew that he wasn't just busy getting real cream out of the fridge to pour into an honest-to-God cream pitcher. I had to kill them to raise the dead, but I could make it as painless as possible. The thought of him not being there at that moment when we come to the end of the adventure was painful, a wrenching kind of pain, as if my stomach and my heart both hurt at the same time. I didn't mean to hurt you, he said, and he was holding his own arms.
It keeps the zombie in, but it also keeps other things out. At least I went outside. She'd once told me if she had my chest she'd never wear another high neck shirt in her life. I don't want to kill him, Malcolm.
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