A Book of Shadows Blessing

This is my Book of Shadows – signed copies are available on my website or from Amazon.

If you would like to listen to a Blessing for your Book of Shadows, please click on this link I hope you enjoy it and find it useful.

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A Spell Verse Repel Bad Neighbours

This is a Spell Verse to Repel Bad Neighbours. You can recite it in a circle at the appropriate time or, if you are not a witch, just say it repeatedly like a prayer. Your words have power. You can also print it, place it in a frame and sit the frame where only you can see it. (better still would be to add a photograph of the people who cause the problem). Each day, light a t-lite candle in front of the frame and recite the verse until the problem has gone away.

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Repel a Stalker Spell Verse

This spell verse should help you to be rid of unwanted attention.

Click Here to Repel a Stalker

Recite it during a ritual and if you are not following the old ways simply light a candle (when you won’t be disturbed) and sit quietly reciting this verse several times either aloud or into yourself.
You can also print a copy and carry it in your pocket and frame a copy, lighting a small candle in front of it as often as possible until you are rid of the nuisance.
Blessed Be
Soraya

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Visit Soraya’s Amazon Shop for her Witchy Finds

So, what do you do when you’re bored? Browse the web, I did and found some amazing stuff then I realised that I could have a wee shop on Amazon so here are the results of my finds. BTW, I found gifts for everyone even non witches. Check it out – let me know what you think, what you like or what you would like to see.

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Everything for the Witch


I’ve started an Amazon shop

I have found tons of witchy things and opened an amazon shop.
Witchy Candles, holders and snuffs, Incense and holders, Witchy Cutlery and crockery, Witchy Bedding, and wall hangings. There are things from a fiver -you might find something for a Christmas pressie, and I might earn a wee commission to go towards my electricity bill 😊😊😊
https://www.amazon.co.uk/shop/sorayabooks

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A day in the life of this Witch 9 Sept 22

Got up this morning (trust me that’s a big deal). Made my bed, did my morning ritual welcoming the Goddess, invoking protection and healing and giving thanks for the many blessings I have been given.

Changed my stoma bag – GROSS – (a year on from cancer surgery and sepsis). Will I ever get used to this. Showered, dressed, and made a quick trip to Asda. May the Goddess bless disabled parking cause I can’t walk very well. Headed home – left shoping in car for hubby to carry in and organise.

By noon I was out walking with my physio. May the Goddess bless him and the NHS for helping in my recovery.

I won’t say I tidied the house cause I didn’t but I would have if I had the energy and mobility – it’s not so much the mobility it’s the watermelon size hernia behind my stoma that just about cripples any movement like, sitting, walking, bending, carrying. I did stick a chicken in the oven – dont really know why cause I’m not that keen on chicken, and I absolutely hate touching raw chicken so it a roast in a bag one. No effort or touching involved.

I put some rice on to cook. I cook really good rice. I little water in a pot – a chicken stock cube or fresh stock bring it to the boil and while you are waiting for that to happen put your rice in a jug and cover it with boiling water from the kettle – leave it a few minutes, give it a good stir to release the starch, strain it through a sieve and add it to the boiling water. How much rice how much water? I can hear you. I have no idea but the way I was taught by my late Arabian mother was when you have added the rice to the water a wooden spoon can stand unsupported in the middle of the pot if it falls over there is too much water. Not very helpful, I know but practice makes perfect rice. Cover with a tight lid, bring it back to the boil and turn off the heat but leave the pot on the hob. DO NOT REMOVE THE LID. Your rice will cook away happily, and the chicken stock will be absorbed into the rice.

When the roast chicken is ready, I will drizzle some of the juices over the rice before serving and it delicious with a tomato and onion side salad which I make by chopping one onion and about three tomatoes, add two tablespoons of oil and the same of fresh lemon juice and some salt and pepper. Put the salad in the fridge covered with a tight-fitting lid and serve o the side of your rice and chicken. I can’t have the onion and tomato because of the stoma so I just drool over it.

After dinner, my lovely hubby will do the dishes while I just chill because, well, after all, Ive had a really hard day.
Love and Blessings
Momma Witch

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Soraya’s Witches Web Newsletter

you can view it here

Lughnasad, Lughnasadh, or Lammas: 1st August 2022🌟: https://mailchi.mp/db21c9699dcc/the-witches-web-newsletter-13486877

if you havent subscribed you can do so here https://www.soraya.co.uk

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A Spell to change your Career

If you would like to listen to the verse narrated by Soraya on her website, please click on this link

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A Full Moon Esbat prepared and narrated by Soraya

If you would like to listen to this, please click on this link.

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA
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A Spell to Sell your House podcast

I have prepared a spell to help you to sell your house – if you would like to listen to it,
please click on this link

Instructions are included in the narration. Love and Blessings as always – Sora

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Litha The Summer Solstice – Welcome the Sun God

If you would like to listen to this narration by Soraya please click on this link

White Witch Soraya, East Renfrewshire
http://www.soraya.co.uk

The original version of this ritual was by the Late Chris Gosselin.

I hope you enjoy, like and share it.

Love and blessings as always

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Repel School Bullies Spell Verse

To Repel School Bullies Spell Verse

Please like and follow my You Tube channel or visit my website https://www.soraya.co.uk/

Click here to Repel School Bullies

And it Harm None So Mote It Be

Witches never ever harm anyone because we know the three fold rule

“Whatever you put out will come back to you three times over.”

We can send back whatever harm anyone sends or performs on us.

Here is a simple verse that can be recited or printed that anyone can safely use. If you are not a practising witch, simply light a candle, sit quietly and recite the verse. Remember spell craft is all about the intention. Blessed Be. And it harm none so mote it be.

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Can’t get any Writing Done

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The view from my office window this morning 😊

https://www.soraya.co.uk/RomanticNovels.htm
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After the Rose narrated by Soraya

After the Rose, a romantic paranormal novel by Soraya
After the Rose, Breaking the Curse is the third part of the Rose trilogy.

CLICK here to listen to an excerpt

After the Rose, Breaking the Curse is the third part of the trilogy. In this latest book, ‘After the Rose,’ the Police ask Alina to help with a cold case, a missing teenager, and in spite of the risk to herself, and the challenges she might face, she agrees. She has made a promise to the Goddess to help those in need whenever she can, hoping and believing that good deeds will in some way break the curse made by her ancestor Mary so long ago.
Alina’s pagan faith has taught her that what you put out comes back to you threefold and her mission is to break the curse so that it no longer affects anyone especially the children that she hopes to have in the future. Every month, in the dark of the Moon, she performs her banishing ritual, but will this be enough, or will Alina’s future happiness be marred by sins of the past?

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Before the Rose narrated by Soraya

A Romantic Paranormal Novel narrated by Soraya

Click here to listen to an excerpt

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The Wooden Rose narrated by Soraya

Click here to listen to an excerpt of The Wooden Rose from the Rose series narrated by Soraya

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Business Success Spells

Business Success – 1

A good way to watch this spell grow is by using a flowerpot, some soil and some sunflower seeds as shown in a previous newsletter. The best time of year to perform this ritual spell is spring through to summer, when it’s easier to grow things. For later planting, you can use bulbs such as Hyacinth, which will bloom in December, or snowdrops and crocus which will bloom January to February or daffodils which will follow in March or April.

Of course, all this depends on where you are in the world and the weather. Once you have decided on the right plant, decorate your altar with objects that are symbolic of growth such as a packet of yeast, or a money plant if you have one. Citrine crystals, are known as the ‘Merchant Stone’ and are useful for any business success.

When you have gathered everything together, write the following verse on a piece of paper. Place a few pebbles for drainage and some soil in your flowerpot. Place your written verse on the soil and place your bulbs or seeds on top it. Cover with soil and water carefully. When this is done recite the following verse

This work I do I ere do well

And often do succeed

But here and now I ask the Lord,

My business should sprout seed

My plans to grow and bear good fruit

Just like the Lady doth

I give my word I will work hard

of this I give my oath.

And it harm none so mote it be

Business Success -2

Once your business is established, the follow ritual will help it grow and succeed. This time decorate your altar with things that are synonymous with success, such as items made of gold or silver, photographs of nice cars, and anything that means success to you. You can also use the Wheel and the Star Tarot cards. When everything is in place, cast your circle, stand or sit in front of your altar and recite this verse.

Our business it doth thrive and grow

Our reputation spreads for all to know

They do come and we do share

A welcome warm and show we care

We do succeed in all we do

With effort, skill and kindness too

Our lives are blessed for all to see

These wishes come within a three

And it harm none so mote it be

 

 

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The Pandemic Lockdown

There’s no doubt its absolutely murder being stuck in but I have a lovely view from my sitting room window. The Sun had reached its highest point and I was sitting inside with the fan blowing at full speed when some groups of teenagers past the house and cycled uphill – They were grouped boys first then a few moments later the girls. I laughed and said to Martin, “I bet they are breaking lockdown to go and cool off at the waterfall (I’ve never seen), If I was there age I would probably be doing that too.”

I didn’t give them another thought but a few hours later I saw them coming back, a boy first and then a girl. Her long hair looked wet, and again, I laughed to myself and thought bet they’ve been skinny dipping.

The boy reached the bottom of the hill and he waited for the girl. Confession…I couldn’t resist it I had to go to my window to get the best angle to be able to see them. She stopped beside him – he was facing uphill, she was facing downhill. They chatted (sorry couldn’t see or hear what they were saying). He was taller than she was. As they spoke she was looking up at him, and then he placed his hands either side of her face and kissed her on the lips. It was just so lovely to watch memories that would last a lifetime being made and they will think back in years to come of that day. The day they broke the lockdown rules and went skinny dipping at a waterfall and fell in love.

It might be an awful time but precious memories will be made and looked back on fondly.

All on Amazon The Mystery of the Wooden Rose Trilogy. Before the Rose, The Wooden Rose and After the Rose
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Follow “Before the Rose, the Gypsy’s curse” by Soraya

Before the Rose, the Gypsy's curse, by best selling author Soraya

Before the Rose, the Gypsy’s curse.

By Soraya

Chapters 1 and 2

Copyright © 2016 Soraya
All rights reserved.

Part 1 Coralina’s Story

Chapter 1

February 1873

Coralina Kelly sat on the padded bench beside the thick brown woollen curtain that closed off the sleeping area in the wagon, and she listened to her mother’s feeble cries. She was sitting on her hands, because she knew that if she didn’t keep them under her legs, she would have bitten her nails down until they bled. She rocked backwards and forward in her space; she was scared. She was the only child to have survived birthing, all the others had come away before their time, and she could remember when two boys had been born, but they were blue when they came out. She hadn’t seen them but she had heard the aunties talking. They would have been her brothers, and she was sad that they hadn’t lived. She was sad for her Mam too, because she cried whenever anyone in the camp birthed a new baby.

“Push, push, try harder lass,” she heard old Mither Morrison saying.

The men were outside leaving the women to look after things, and she was alone in the wagon, separated from the others only by the curtain. She wanted to pee so badly, but she was afraid to leave, not that she was any help, but still, she didn’t want to run through the dark to the toilet tent to relieve herself of her full bladder, just in case she was needed. Finally, when she could hold it no longer, she left the wagon at a run.

“Where ye goin’ lass?” her father John called as she scooted past him. He and the others were sitting around the campfire patiently, if worriedly, waiting for the birth of the next child, sharing a bottle of whisky, and silently praying that all would be well.

“Ah’m goin’ tae the dunny Da.”

“Straight back Coralina, mind now, straight back.”

The Gypsies’ camp was set in a clearing surrounded by trees near Glasgow Green and close to the River Clyde. There was a narrow road close by, but no one could see the camp from there, and that was fine because their privacy was important. Eight wagons were on this camp, nearly forty Gypsies in all, and they were relatives of each other by birth, marriage, or close kinship. This location gave them access to all the places that they would travel to, selling their wares or services, whether they were heading to the Ayrshire coast or to villages and towns further afield. The wagons were in a semi circle, with a campfire in the middle. Over the fire stood a Chitty Prop, a three legged cast iron frame for suspending a large kettle for boiling water. At meal times, the kettle would be replaced with a heavy iron pot for cooking soups and stews.

Off she ran to the space that had been prepared, which contained a large galvanised steel bin. A lid with a hole in the centre, forming a seat, had been fashioned out of wood so that anyone who needed to use it could sit without touching the cold hard steel. A canvas hap was fastened to the wooden frame of the dunny and gave some privacy when it was in use. Coralina hitched up her thick woollen skirt and dragged at her knickers, pulling them down as far as her thighs, and then she squatted over the seat. She sighed with relief as she emptied her bladder; she had held it in for so long that she thought she would never stop. She paused when she had finished, hoping the last drips had fallen before she hitched up her knickers, and hurried back to the wagon.

She could smell the wood smoke from the fire and as she came through the trees, the light from the fire guided her. She could see the shadows of the men sitting around the fire, wearing their thick jackets, caps, and scarves to keep themselves warm in the cold February air. She could hear their whispered conversations but couldn’t make out what they were saying. The heat from the fire warmed her face as she ran past it, and quietly crept back into the wagon. She was shivering now, and grabbing a blanket, she threw it over her shoulders. Once more, she took her place on the bench in the sitting area. She didn’t know what time it was but she knew that it had been hours and hours. It would be morning soon and still she sat.

Mither Morrison had been in and out several times demanding more hot water as she tried to help Mary Ellen, her daughter-in-law, deliver her baby. Coralina didn’t know what all the hot water was for, but Mither Morrison needed plenty of it. Just as the day was breaking she heard a funny little noise, a squeak almost, and then loud lusty cries. She knew, as her heart filled with joy and excitement, that the baby had come and it wasn’t blue, she didn’t think blue babies cried. She was excited and happy to have a new baby brother or sister, but as she listened, she realised that it had all gone very quiet, apart from the little noises the new baby was making.

Still she listened, and then Mither Morrison came out. At fifty-three, she was the oldest mother in their camp, and the ‘Mither’ in any camp was always shown the utmost respect and always had the best of things, partly because some of the residents would be her grown children, and partly because everyone in any camp made sure that the Mither had everything that she needed. She had been quite a character in her day, and even yet, as old as she was, for in those days being in your fifties was a good age, she still managed to bring a spark of light during heavy or hard times. She could make everyone laugh with the old stories she told, and when the occasion warranted it, she could dance a jig with the best of them, though her arthritic bones meant that her jig didn’t last very long. With a word or a look, the Mither could make a man feel ten feet tall or chastise him and reduce him to feeling that he was ten years old. She was held in such esteem that she seldom had to chastise, and was more likely to nod and say, “Well done lad, aye well done,” and the lad in question, though twenty-four or forty would puff up his chest proudly.

Mither Morrison’s hair, once red, was now as white as snow. She wore it partly covered by a colourful thick woollen chequered scarf that she had wrapped around the length of her hair at the back of her neck, and twisted and tied to one side. Her hair had receded back from her forehead a little, exposing a deep brow over watery eyes once as blue as the sky on a summers day. Though her skin was pale, her cheeks were rosy red from daily exposure to the fresh air and the elements. A thick brown woollen dress came down to her ankles, and over it was a sleeveless v-neck jumper hand knitted using many different colours of wool. Over one shoulder was a woollen blanket of reds, yellows, and blues, and the toes of chunky black boots peeped out from her ensemble. She wore heavy gold hoops in her ears and fine gold bangles dangled on her thin wrists as she moved. Her jewellery, and the bright colours that she wore, always drew attention wherever she went.

She was proud of her family too, her son George was married to Mary Ellen’s sister Isabella, and they had given her three fine granddaughters. The last one, a late baby, was little Daisy, not yet weaned onto solids, Nellie was five and Jennie was ten. Isabella had miscarried more than once, so she cherished her girls and she was a good mother.

Chapter 2

Coralina looked up as Mither Morrison came through the thick dividing curtain. She realised that the Mither was carrying the tiny baby wrapped in the new white shawl that her mother had knitted. The Mither handed the baby to Coralina.

“Here, watch whit yer daein’, an’ take the bairn tae yer Auntie Isabella, she’ll see tae her. It’s a wee lassie.”

Coralina looked at the Mither and wondered why she had tears on her face. This was a happy time she thought, as she tenderly and carefully took the new baby in her arms. This tiny baby was her little sister and she was overjoyed. She looked back at the Mither and then suddenly felt confused. She wondered why she had to take the bairn to her Auntie Isabella. Coralina had a worried expression, her eyes were wide and her mouth gaped in surprise, but the Mither only said, “Tell yer Da tae come in on yer way oot.”

Coralina stepped into the doorway pausing above the wooden steps, and then made her way slowly down with the baby in her arms. All the men stood suddenly and stared at her. They looked at her anxiously first, and then, as one, they looked at her father as he yelled, “Mary Ellen, nooooo, nooooo!” He screamed for his wife. He groaned as though in agony, as he realised that this could only mean one thing. Coralina, frightened by this sudden change, watched as the men grabbed her father, and held him as he cried. She skirted around them and ran over to her Auntie Isabella’s.

Isabella, as well as everyone else in the camp, had been waiting and watching from her wagon as her sister struggled in the throes of childbirth.

“Come in hinny, I’ll take the bairn. Go and sit down.” Isabella did her best to hide her grief as she took the baby in her arms. Coralina climbed the steps and followed her aunt into her wagon, sat on the bench and watched as Isabella opened her top and fastened her little sister to her ample breast.

“She needs feedin,” she said by way of an explanation.

“How come you’re feedin her?”

“I’m sorry lass, ye’ll have tae wait till the Mither speaks tae ye.”

Coralina stood up to go back to her wagon. She was confused and frightened, and wanted to know why her aunt was feeding her baby sister and not her mother. She wanted to know what was wrong with her father.

“Sit doon lass, stay where ye are, Mither will come for ye when its time.”

Coralina was staring at her aunt and she could see that she was upset. Tears began to run down Coralina’s face. She didn’t know what or why but she knew that something was wrong. She watched her little sister suckle, and she watched as Isabella moved her from one breast to the other. When she was finished feeding, and the baby was content and sleeping, Isabella reached over and placed the baby in Coralina’s arms.

“She’ll be yours to look after noo Coralina.”

Not quite understanding the full implication of the words that her aunt had spoken, Coralina held the baby close, inhaling that new baby smell, and gazed into the child’s sleeping face. She was overwhelmed with a love that she hadn’t known existed.

“I’m yer big sister,” she whispered, and she kissed the baby on her soft cheek.

“Ah’ll aye look after ye,” she said, as she rocked back and forward lulling the new baby.

A short while later, Mither Morrison came into Isabella’s wagon, and the two women, the younger and the older, looked solemnly at each other as the Mither sat beside Coralina.

“Whit age are ye now hinny?” she asked, although she knew the answer to that question.

“Ah’m seven Mither, Ah’m nearly eight, Ah won’t drop her or onythin’, Ah’ll be careful Mither.”

“I, Ah ken ye will lass, Ah ken ye will, yer young yet but yer gonnae have to be strong for Ah have summat tae tell ye.”

“Is it ma Da?”

“No hinny it’s no’ yer Da, it’s yer Mam. She didnae make it. She gave her last breath tae yer wee sister.”

“Whit dae ye mean Mither.”

“She’s gone lass, she’s gone tae heaven tae be wi’ the angels, an’ ye’ll have tae look after wee Mary here. She’s your responsibility noo. Gie her tae me an’ away ye go across an’ say yer farewell tae yer Mam.”

Coralina’s eyes were wide with terror as she thought about what the Mither was saying. She let her take baby Mary in her arms and in a flash, she was out of the wagon, jumping down the steps, and there, amidst the wagons, was a trestle surrounded by other members of the camp, some were family, and some were friends. As she approached, they parted and she could see her mother lying on the trestle. Thick green glass jars containing lit candles were set around the trestle, but there was space enough for her to approach closely.

“Mam, Mam,” she cried as she ran over.

She knew the custom for laying out the dead; she had seen it before and she realised that her mother was gone. She reached over and stroked her mother’s cold face, the face that she loved so much, and then she touched her mother’s hands, folded over her chest. She stroked her mother’s raven hair and she tried to reach up to kiss her, but she was too small. She suddenly felt strong hands lift her up, she knew those hands; they were her father’s hands.

“Be strong lass,” he whispered to her as he her high enough to reach her mother’s lips.

As he put her down, she turned, leapt into his arms once more, and sobbed into his strong chest. Tears coursed down John Kelly’s face as he held his sobbing daughter in his arms. He could hear the quiet sobs of those who grieved with him.

The days following her mother’s funeral were a blur to Coralina. Her grief was such that she gave all her attention to her baby sister, and the only time that she was parted from her was when her aunt put Mary to her breast.

“Does that make you Mary’s Mam now that yer feedin’ her?” she asked one day.

Her aunt looked up and smiled kindly, for she was glad that Coralina had spoken at all.

“No lass, Ah’ll no’ be her Mam, but Ah’ll aye love her as though she was ma ain. She’s takin’ ma milk so there will aye be a part o’ me in her.”

“Ah love ye tae Auntie Isabella, and Ah’m glad ye had spare milk.”

Isabella smiled, “A mithers’ body’s a miracle for it gives as much milk as is needed, even if Ah had two suckling bairns Ah could still feed a third. Ah’m still makin’ milk for yer wee cousin Daisy, an’ ma body’ll make as much as Ah need.”

Coralina gazed at her aunt with admiration and love in her young eyes. She thought that she was beautiful with her smooth skin and her long straight brown hair cascading over one shoulder. Isabella looked down into Mary’s contented face as she fed her. Coralina thought that she looked like an angel, though she had never seen an angel, she was sure that if she had it would look just like her aunt. Thinking of angels made Coralina think of her Mam, and suddenly, the tears began to fall, and they wouldn’t stop. Soon she was sobbing; she cried and sobbed, and cried and sobbed some more. She wasn’t aware of Mither Morrison coming in, nor was she aware of her father picking her up. He carried her across to the Mithers wagon where they were staying temporarily, put her down on her bed, and covered her with a thick blanket. He sat with her stroking her hair, and he cried silent tears as he wished that things could have been different for his two girls. He knew the road ahead would be a hard one, but he promised himself that he would do his very best by his daughters. Finally, when Coralina was in a deep sleep he rose and left her to rest.

Much later, Coralina woke up her father sat on the edge of her bed.

“Sit up an’ take some soup hinny.”

She didn’t know why but for some reason she felt much lighter. She sat up and her father spoon-fed her from the thick earthenware bowl. Each time he put the spoon to her mouth she would raise her eyes, and look into his strong handsome face. He looked older and sad, and she wondered if she was sick and maybe she was going to go to heaven to be with the angels too.

“Ah’m Ah sick Da?” she asked between spoonfuls.

“No lass, yer no’ sick, yer just sad, dae ye feel sick?”

“No Da, Ah feel good.”

“Here, take the bowl an’ finish yer soup, and then go ower an’ help yer Auntie Isabella wi’ yer wee sister.” He handed her the bowl and stood up to leave the wagon and then he turned and looked down at her, “Yer a good lass hinny, and yer Mam would be proud o’ ye. Ah’ll be away for a few days hinny so ye’ll bide here wi’ Mither Morrison until Ah come back.”

*******

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