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One of the more bittersweet offerings is “Bingo” by Anita Riggio, about a depressed boy whose bubbly best friend tries to save him from himself: Her chin went up. Just smell this, Roscoe.” “I can smell it from here.” Maeve pulled a slim gold trumpet of a bloom from the vine. “You just don’t know what you’re missing.” “Sure I do.
The dating of the tantras is "a difficult, indeed an impossible task" according to David Snellgrove.