As I Lay Dying

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Blood strange to mine, I could get ready to stay dead I would hate my father for ever having planted me A tall bird hunched in cold weather
The life in him runs under the skin, under my hand, running through the splotches, smelling up into my nose
Darl was different from those others He knew without words.   Addie Bundren is dead. Furious tide of despair.   New Hope. 3 mi  
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