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November 8th 2016 The Monk’s Haven was packed. A small dog sat waiting patiently for the possibility of a small crumb of toasted teacake. She knew the café owners would often provide a small piece of cut sausage for hungry dogs, so this would tide her over until the main food possibly came her way. The table opposite remarked at her black cape with a red collar. It was very Dracula, but in keeping with the mood
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