E.L. James - And so a pattern develops: wake, work cry. Sleep. I...

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And so a pattern develops: wake, work cry. Sleep. I can't even escape him in my dreams. Gray burning eyes, his lost look, his hair burnished and bright and bright all haunt me. And the music.. So much music-I cannot bear to hear any music. I am careful to avoid it at all costs. Even the jingles in commercials make me shudder.

E.L. James

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