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[gainsaid] Completley bereft of sense, Lansleg surrendered to the snorting and crunching of the mailcarriage that rumbled in an unpredictable monotony through a gloomy plain, pulled by a gigantic centipede. And even while the horn was announcing the speedy arrival in another place, he knew, that he wouldn't want to stay there... [selvsyn] Wolfram regularly vanished into an adventurous sweet world made of butter mountains and milklakes. And even now, almost 20 years later, in any club a melancolic thrill runs through him: Yes grandma, I can buttertrance
