But the free arm of the stranger hit him a flail-like blow on the chest and sent him sprawling into the yielding sand. The gardens were tidy and geometric, each avenue with a different purpose: flowers for cutting, herbs, brightly colored vegetables. She watched the people and hummed softly to herself. Occasionally the canvas snapped as the wind veered slightly. So he decided to stay. “For your own sake, let me beg of you not to stay for a moment. I told him that I was not ‘Alcide.
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