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That did not mean much: as I taught Language Change, I knew that over time, sometimes connections between languages became so attenuated that any rela...ion between them was a matter of interpretation or wishful thinking.I have searched the literature for something similar, but so far have found no plausible match, not even as tenuous as between the Afghani fragment and any known Indo-European. Either the Grimoire was written in a completely invented language, with grammar, alphabet, and over. By the time I finished the report I was exhausted and hungry. It was time for supper so I washed my face and hands and went over to the mess hall. I don't know what they had, I just ate. It didn't matter what it tasted like my body needed food even if I didn't.After chow I went back, took a shower and got ready for bed. I then went across the quad to Doc's hospital and had Jasmine show me to the room where I would be spending the night. The only thing other than a toothbrush I took with me was. She threw herself into my arms and hugged me tight. ‘Oh, Jim honey, I thought I’d never see you again!’ I gently detached myself and pulled back from her a little. I was far from sure how I wanted to play this. I still felt embarrassed about my visit to her, which was one of the biggest mistakes I had made in my efforts to cope with FUCK. I had nothing against the girl personally, but I knew I had been lucky that our previous meeting had ended without disaster, and really I wanted nothing more. The kisses, so soft and sweet at first, became deeper and longer. Our hands began to explore our bodies, mine cupping her ass, kneading and squeezing the full round globes. Hers along my chest, rubbing my small nipples. She delighted in making them hard, licking and kissing them. Taking her hand, we walk to the couch, sitting side by side. My arm around her shoulder, her head resting on my chest. Soothing comfort is sometimes so simple. We talk about the weekend, how we thought of each other.
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