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December 6, 2012
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There, huddled by the fire lies my daughter. Seven years old. Perfect. Her name Is Gardenia. She is what makes me who I am. I can say with truth, she is what caused me to attain happiness. I am a single parent, age 28. The way she came to be is something I don't wish to recollect. But for your sake's I will. Let's just say it was a bachelor party with someone who I would say, is not the finest of beings. A part time meth addled stripper. Ah regrets. The court saw the female unfit to raise a child and for once the male was able to receive custody if he so wished. Which I did. Seven years and four months later here we are. Camping in the woods of Russia. I began building a shelter as my daughter sang to herself by the fire. Once accomplished, it was the latter part of the afternoon. The sky darkening, turning a purple blue. I arranged some lamb shank that was suspended over the fire by a metal rod to evenly cook. The meat sizzling as I did so. "Daddy, Why does wood smoke when it's on fire?" I took a second and contemplated her question. Watching the fire burn. "The wood is a prison." I said "It is evil. When you burn the evil wood the spirits inside are released. The spirits the wood held captive. You and I, see those spirits as smoke particles from the woods incineration. Or, it's evil annihilation." I said and softly tapped her on the nose. She smiled at me. "Oh. So it's good when it burns?"  She asked. "Yes my child. Yes."
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