Sausage party

What I missed, every day, yearned for, actually, was a British-style pork sausage. I dreamt of them. At least I think it was sausages I saw in my dreams.

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Breakfast of champions!

He shows me the top of his tattoo, which is of a large feather. It’s well drawn, actually. It starts at the small of his back and, I don’t really want to imagine, sweeps downwards.