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Even Butterflies Can Sting by Mike Resnick An Eli Paxton Story If Marlowe could have laughed, he'd have been rolling on the floor, holding his sides and gasping for breath. Marlowe's my dog. I don't like him much. He doesn't like me at all. But we're all each other's got, so I feed him and he hangs around. Right at the moment, he was staring intently at me as I was struggling with the black tie. He'd been watching me for the better part of half an hour, as I cursed my way through the suspenders, cumberbund, and the cufflinks. He cocked his head to one side and grinned --yeah, I know, dogs can't grin ... but no one ever told that to Marlowe --as if to say that everything that went before was merely amusing, but my struggle with the tie was hilarious. It wasn't |
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