KEETO

I suppose I should be grateful, considering that rumors in the market describe Ministry-managed cities as ovens. Our cabin thermometer may have a glitch in its programming that engages about thirty minutes after the last Eisyöydekaton floodlight turns off for the night, but throwing on a few wool blankets is much easier and more pleasant, may I add, than ripping a layer of skin off. Although, Mr. Inis would surely oblige, with delight. Shudder the thought.

And shudder that sound …

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