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66 Upstairs  Hall Linen Closet What I feared in the linen closet was the stupendous body, long legs, and driving hooves of the stag, the flag of its tail somehow wedged among bedsheets. Its head poked through the linen closet wall into my brother’s room, eyes glass, antlers empty as a February tree. I never looked, of course, in the linen closet, so scared was I of the dead power of that deer. I never told my fear since this fact fit with mysteries we accepted: Jesus on the cross, the deer trapped in the wall. ...

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