but
note: I thought usually it was a 3 word game? One words doesn't allow that much leeway.
but
note: I thought usually it was a 3 word game? One words doesn't allow that much leeway.
Nothing close to pity moved inside me. I was sliding over some edge within myself. I was going to rip open his skin with my bare hands, claw past his ribs and tear out his liver and then I was going to eat it, gorging myself on his blood.
-- Johnny Truant, "House of Leaves" by Mark Z. Danielewski
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