Hear our story, then, the story of time past and time future. The story of all centuries since and the stories yet to come. About to fall upon us is the nettles, The nettles, with their soft white stems, there is in each stem a sharp blue spike, Comes upon its prey with a sudden point
And pierces the flesh as the teeth of the nettle Pierce the ribs of a potato. Here lies the rat, struggling, straining, dying, dying, fighting to rise up. A thousand small bites from the nettles have enveloped the flesh of his body, we will strip him, pull him, tear him open, eat him, cut him in half, make him into soup,
burp out his meat and eat.
But this is time past and time future a story of all the centuries since and the stories yet to come.
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