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Was there anything at all in those locked rooms of her aunt’s mind? Were they fully furnished and only a little dusty and cobwebby and in need of an airing, or were they stark vacancy except, perhaps, for a cockroach or so or the gnawing of a rat? What was the mental equivalent of a rat’s gnawing? The image was going astray. “What else was I to do?” For some seconds she stood watching him and both were thinking very quickly. Not Trodger.
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This video was uploaded to suzume-news.club on 20-09-2024 11:40:23
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