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October 7th, 2018 Leave a comment Go to comments

Tricia sighed as Arthur launched into his familiar tirade regarding her not being real. Imposter this, simulcrum that. It was exhausting, and now a daily routine. Who are you, where’s my wife, you’re a fucking phony. She was so tired, but unsure of what else to do. Life without Arthur wouldn’t even make sense anymore, even with these newfound outbursts and accusations. In sickness and in health, after all.

Categories: death
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