I rang around the rosy,
I learnt to play when I was young,
And I built it up with silver and gold.
But all I see are ashes, ashes,
The only tune I can play is over the hills and far away,
And my London Bridge is falling down.
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Stories by ErinTimber
Angel
For generations, there has been a mutation known as Angel, named only because of the wings and otherworldly a...