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Chapter 22Book 34: Triumph of the Unworthy (I)
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... bolts! Fool are to face my rageful skies! Down little sparrow, down to the ground when the animals belong, for that is what I will, and that is what will be.”
But the lonesome sparrow flew and flew. Between the bolts and against the wind. Its wings strained. Its body struggled. But still the lonesome sparrow flew and flew. “You may lash me, storm. You may lash me clean and through. But I am not fool, only a sparrow. I have no love for the land, only the sky you stole, and I will seek he ...
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