The Magdalene XIV. It got on my nerves—the women I saw. She heard this standard expression of a strong soul wrung with a critical coldness that astonished herself. The sky was dripping a wet, slow rain that had forced the city’s inhabitants into taxicabs and dingy cafeterias, the day wholly ruined for all except the insane schizophrenics and her. Red velvet curtains rustled under dim lights as the door shut with a heavy snap.
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