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41 Looking The buzz cranking over in her brain, eyeliner smeared a bleak bruise, skin like wax in the ladies’ room mirror, one lazy fly tapping against her reflection. Out there, a man keeps stacking up beer bottles, ranks of clanking. He waits, gets angry. Wants to sweep and scatter everything into brilliant breakage. She is looking for a story. She is looking for a savior. She is looking for a reason to go home alone. To become more than an empty bowl and a bare back. He is looking for warmth. He is looking for a reason to be better than his father. If he could find that key, he would hang it from the rearview mirror in his pickup truck and drive all night away from this place. ...

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