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In the name of God, the Merciful, the Compassionate.
The night still in transit towards another day. It would not be later than three, maybe four in the dark.
After three days of a thundering pain, still three days of fever menaced him to follow.
The house itself breathed deep and rythmical, as the innocents slept and their dreams floated over the continuum of the fridge and the dryer urged to be turned off as it tumbled and beeped.
Altabib felt a hurting smash, as a bottle popping inside his head, straight over his neck, while his view melted in bright white, hid the world to his senses and revealed the real size of time.
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