behind them swam, a soldier true, a soldier who, through combat due, had forgot which side, his loyalties too, and he kicked his legs, like a stoic human motor….. his epaulettes, and silver buttons ruffled by the waves…..
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When I got to the front of the queue the medicine-man’s assistant took hold of my shoulder with one hand, and with the other he pushed a pin or needle into my skin and lifted it up towards the medicine man
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