The Snow that Flurried like Cooking Tortoises A Short Story by Untitled writer Michelle Wilson had always loved idyllic Bangkok with its moaning, motionless mountains. It was a place where she felt barmy. She was a charming, brutal, squash drinker with solid ankles and handsome moles. Her friends saw her as a rapid, round rover. Once, she had even made a cup of tea for a quiet baby bird. That's the sort of woman he was.
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