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eddie started slowly toward it, feet gritting in the plaster dust


he could. he could.

so, in gratitude and in terror, he did. the hole opened and paul stared through at what was there, unaware that his fingers were picking up speed, unaware that his aching legs were in the same city but fifty blocks away, unaware that he was weeping as he wrote.

lovell, maine: september 23rd 1984 / bangor, maine: october 7th 1986: now my tale is told.

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