A Form of Love

The soul had been flayed, shredded into suffering ribbons, and Death had to think carefully about how to handle it right.

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He didn’t really remember being swallowed, so that was all right.

“It’s not all right,” said Dis.

He also didn’t remember before being swallowed. That was maybe less all right, but there was nothing he could do about it. So.

“Bullshit,” said Dis.

Sisters talked a lot.