Here I lay out a skeleton story, only bones.
As with any tale, the flesh is yours.
Here I place inside its rib-cage a phantom-heart, beating.
Here I lay over it a spirit cloak.
Do not presume it human.
Don't dare dream it done.
Huckleberry Mockingbird is a fabrication; a hallucination brought to life. He is a lie that, through the telling, becomes true.
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