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The southern end of the verandaheld a boypinned to his steel chair pinnedto his spider gazeand the mountain in his forefront heaved with the wanton wind with every passing blame and this nerve would never last and the steel turned blue and the chair winged its way through the ugliest trees he'd ever seen, perched swallows' screaming cackles and dinner was the last thing on his mind. She never met his eyesnever saw the desperate twitch of skinnever knew his eventualbreak-down.
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