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His lover now dead, Edward jumped.
A short story by Gregory Wood, read it here. Note that lover is in pink. This is where his story took me:
Vandals had taken over the village. Lover burned and burned, like a hamlet in majestic Britain had never burned before. Or at least, not right in front of Edward’s eyes.
It started with a phone call urging him not to come home tonight. His mother’s terrified shrieks bade him...