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The Death of a Man
The woman with the backwards arms had fallen sometime in the night, and her companions had showed no hesitation. They had gripped her shoulders, hoisted her up, and hurled her straight into the gaping moor. I swore it wouldn't happen to me. So I decided he would keep up the ruse until the truck was empty, in the hopes I'd have a chance later. But as we unloaded the last of the grim cargo, and I carried a heavy red tongue down into the vault, I saw another truck pull up,. then another, then another. There was no end to them. Day turned into night, turned into day again, and still I carried meat, and threw it