He was back in Keshequa Junction and the girls were dead. There was a loaded shotgun on the back porch wall behind the violins and a rusty washing machine beside a bullet-riddled refrigerator. Customers wore overalls, plaid and denim, tipping the wine, catching the morning buzz after the graveyard shift. Then he was in school, the end of the school year, field day, and amazing games and races, spoon, water balloon, sack, three-legged, angel food, and dinosaur erasers at the strawberry festival while a school band played, “In the Good Old Summerime.”
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"Classic"
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