Thesun washes everything with the fine gold light of endless late July; thelake is as blue as a dream, netted with a billion sparks of reflectedlight. The letters on the fridge consisted of onlya single alphabet (no, not even that, I saw; g and x had been lostsomeplace), and I'd have to get more. The rest ofthe time. County and State cops would bealong eventually, storm or no storm, downed trees or no downed trees.
I put the stuffed dog in Kyra's openhand. He wrote DarkScore Days in 1965 or '66. Any other questions, Frank? Because I'm really starting to fade. But I don't care; I won't be used as a tool to use dad's money.
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