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March 2, 2010
Andrew Wyeth, Otherworld
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Notes
Think of this as the discarded draft of a novel now being used as scrap paper.
Regis
Every morning the two ravens, Huginn and Muninn, are loosed and fly over Midgard; I always fear that Thought may not wing his way home, but my fear for Memory is greater.
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All text is © unless I didn't write it.
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