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Janie: Winter now. Its icy fingers reach beneath the frame of one solid door, beneath the blankets that shroud our bed, into the ventricles of my heart. All color is frozen out. My face, grey, the streets, grey. The voices that creep through the phone lines are grey. No sap runs through me. No current of life. Like Demeter, my daughter has been stolen from me. Exiled to hell and I condemn the world to perpetual winter. At night I hear her in my dreams. She calls: "Mummy". Her voice echoes through the dark and I rise to go to her as I always have. My feet grey on the ice-slick floors of the house. I run from room to room bur every one of them is empty. The walls draped in frost. I hear her calling beyond the windows but the door is stuck. I can't get out. I'm trapped here, without her on the other side. And there he is, like a frigid God without compassion. "Let go", he tells me. You've got to accept. But it's not his womb that's turned to glacier. She never lived inside his body as she did in mine. As she still does. The hart will never beat unless I breathe. Baby cries until her mother holds her. The mother holds her until the winter thaws.

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    What TV series is this quote from: "I demand a trial by combat!"?
    A Game of Thrones
    B Vikings
    C Fargo
    D Gotham