. . . do not fear death

. . . “You wrote I had a ‘small animal’ in my heart. I said a ‘small anvil.'”

Oh. Not the furtive, frantic scurryings of a trapped bird, then.

The clang and unremitting hammer clang, the heat and hiss of other metal being changed, under which you can only bear up, keep witness. . .

[the story]

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