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riends and that they would return to the workshop。 He
brandished a long sword that shimmered brightly with a strange red and
indicated that he had a number of accounts that; for whatever reason; he
meant to settle with me。 I considered telling him that there was some
misunderstanding; but I saw the incredible anger on his face。 I could read in
his expression that he was about to launch a sudden murderous assault on me。
How I would’ve liked to say; “I beg of you; stop。”
But he’d already acted。
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I wasn’t even able to raise my dagger; I simply lifted the hand in which I
held my satchel。
The satchel dropped。 In one smooth motion; without losing speed; the
sword cut first through my hand and then clear through my neck; lopping off
my head。
I knew I’d been beheaded from the two odd steps taken by my poor body
which had left me behind in its confusion; from the stupid manner in which
my hand waved the dagger and from the way my lonely body collapsed; blood
spraying from the neck like a fountain。 My poor feet; which continued to
move as though still walking; kicked uselessly like the legs of a dying horse。
From the muddy ground upon which my head had fallen; I could neither
see my murderer nor my satchel full of gold pieces and pictures; which I still
wanted to cling to tightly。 These things were behind me; in the direction of the
hill leading down to the sea and Galleon Harbor which I would never reach。
My head would never again turn and see them; or the rest of the world。 I
forgot about them and let my thoughts take me away。
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