Scratching Love Poems into the Cornea of the One-Eyed Airwhale

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As I readied my chisel for another blow, I imagined something new in that huge, unblinking eye. These weren’t tears of regret or mourning, they were tears of joy- and Damned if my chest didn’t swell up to popping as I heard the beast burst into a warbling cry of appreciation! The old man had been right after all.

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