TAKE AWAY THE IMPORTANT PARTS
No grandfather or wine. No kings. Nothing even resembling a song. Only a blanket and the sea. Only the threat of something righteous contained within pork. A pie slowly congealing on the windowsill. Communal knowledge.
The remainder of the equation never equals the sum of its parts. It cannot be helped, the grandfather & his faded hat. The wrinkled hands as they caressed pork fat & pickle juice. The thought of faded royalty. Tininess. The word for something being small.
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