88 4 4
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153 2 1
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We came into the same city, a place given; you my uncle Philip first, me, twenty three years later. I was the round-faced curly-locked little zombie-walker, bumping my way around and between the tree-trunk legs of the other grownups at your 'going away…
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57 1 2
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A little torn cornerpiece of paper,the color of a kitchen sponge,drifting in and out ofsunny winds.
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