DEFI AUX ADVERSAIRES DE LA LEGITIMITE. LE COMTE DE

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datatime: 2022-09-30 17:17:34 Author:rMrkErCi

Because it scares me, and I have to know if I can.

What difference would it make if you couldn't climb down in that stinking hole? You'll never have to do it again, Anita. Just don't do it.

Why? Why do you need to know that? You've proven to me and everyone here that you're tough. You don't have anything left to prove to us.

What difference would it make if you couldn't climb down in that stinking hole? You'll never have to do it again, Anita. Just don't do it.

Give me the flashlight, Richard.

I shook my head. I'm not competing with you, Richard, or anyone else. I don't give a shit who's better or faster or braver.

Why? Why do you need to know that? You've proven to me and everyone here that you're tough. You don't have anything left to prove to us.

I stared back into the hole and let myself acknowledge just how afraid I was. So afraid that I could taste something flat and metallic on my tongue. So afraid that my pulse was hammering in my throat, like a trapped thing. My voice came out calm, normal. I was glad. It doesn't matter that I'm afraid. I touched the flashlight, tried to pull it from his hand, but he held on. And, short of playing tug of war -- which I would probably lose -- I wasn't getting it away from him.

Why? and the anger was more than a faint hint now.

Just to see if I can.

If I can crawl down into that hole.

I sighed. Less and less scares me, Richard. So when I find something that does bother me, I have to test it. I have to see if I can do it.

Then why do it?

I shrugged. Maybe, but I still have to do it.

Why? and the anger was more than a faint hint now.

Then why do it?

Then why do it?

What difference would it make if you couldn't climb down in that stinking hole? You'll never have to do it again, Anita. Just don't do it.

Then why do it?

Why? and his voice held the first hint of anger, like a slap of warmth.

He knelt beside me and spoke softly, I can smell your fear. I know you don't like close places.

I shook my head. No. He's mine.

I shook my head. No. He's mine.

I held my hand out for the flashlight.

I stared back into the hole and let myself acknowledge just how afraid I was. So afraid that I could taste something flat and metallic on my tongue. So afraid that my pulse was hammering in my throat, like a trapped thing. My voice came out calm, normal. I was glad. It doesn't matter that I'm afraid. I touched the flashlight, tried to pull it from his hand, but he held on. And, short of playing tug of war -- which I would probably lose -- I wasn't getting it away from him.

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