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VIII The Holy Forest
    KIP ALKS OUt of t  of .

    s o of ecting ts errace, and akes  against o .

    Surns back into t in front of cairs.

    tient turns to face ouc   leaves o te s, it begins to make trek toance of t of  redness against w seems like volcanic flesh.

    In ter by Caravaggio o  reac, and c in his hand.

    Caravaggio glances doo see t all through his cheeks.

    hinks suddenly he owes him a life.

    Kip begins to laug of the box of wires.

    Caravaggio  oronto street Caravaggio  out of a taxi and  Indian o get into it, and hen.

    No laugo t tohe ceiling.

    “I kno sarongs.” Caravaggio oronto I met t turned out to belong to an Indian family. to sleep in, and it intrigued me. e s to talk about and tually persuaded me to try it. I removed my clotepped into one, and tely set upon me and co t.” “Is t a true story?” She grinned.

    “One of many!” S o almost believe it. Caravaggio antly diverted by t during burglar-ies. Breaking into a mas, iced t calendar  been opened up to te to s left alone in orically discussing meals en greeted by turned to the scene of a crime.

    S of t random pulls out a book. Sions in a book of poetry and begins to e there.

    city. London is a recent tory.  gunpoeentury, court paintings recorded fireworks displays.

    mucaller timate smile up close t can c. A tougo ure  ss. But  is more rambunctious ts. Remember “I’ll rees—named for saints and emperors or wo.

    the word bungalow comes from Bengali.

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