Mikhail awoke in the darkness of his room to the sound of quiet voices swimming around him. His eyes moved about the room searching for familiarity, searching for the source of the disembodied speakers.
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I have to admit I am a little surprised that Phil doesn’t see it. He just doesn’t appreciate what’s different about Jessica. Of course it’s not the name. I’m very proud of Jessica. Isn’t that what mothers in particular are supposed to be?
So, it is the night before Christmas and all through the house, not a creature was stirring not even a mouse. Well of course there wasn’t a mouse stirring, not while I’m on patrol. Anyway, none of this ‘not a creature was stirring bizzo’. I was stirring! Who am I?
It was a typical Ballarat winter. The cold crept into your bones and the rain turned the goldfields to a sodden mess. At least it wasn’t a heavy or prolonged downpour Henry thought, just enough to top up the existing puddles and make the overflow form into narrow rivulets of muddy orange water.
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