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73 ex aS CSi ePiSode The opening shot hammers the shrill point— the sound of wheels locking, an arm without permission bearing down, unexpected end to a dream that fades like the feverless truth: a gin-soaked branch that snaps out of frame, lens panning woods, wind through the trees, a rock, two hands. Now, nothing disturbs the surface, little breaks down. I thank you for not being him. ...

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