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Nicholas

Dead Nicholas smiles out of the photograph on the stairs of the borrowed house and I recall that when he was a boy, put to bed, he'd smiling stealthily reappear His steps and voice are now a man's default though too he's ever-present, a dislodged marble dropping daily from stair to stair past the eternal photograph of himself once smiling out through the front door and into the street a wrecker's ball hauled back on its chain and swung against a building till the windows pop and the frames collapse and remaining walls let go Main i MacInnes

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