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53 CAr sTArTing lATe AT nighT The sound slams its invisible brick through our front window. has a burglar found my emergency cash, and carted off the newTV? is some lucky dog leaving his lover’s bed to grab a few winks before work? or is he racing home, thinking of his wife, “she’s gonna kill me”? has some sloven’s mother finally kicked him out? maybe the driver is a woman, the last straw stabbed between her shoulder blades. or some granddad who couldn’t sleep for dreams of trout, has—high on coffee—hit the road. Could enemies have tracked me here? Any second, the bomb they left may blow; the fire they started, thrust up its devil-tines. it could be noon outside. i could have overslept and missed my meeting, plane, exam. my wife could have been replaced by an evil twin, while i fade like a photo undeveloping, going a black which could be death, or just the sleep i can’t hold back. i should get up, test every lock, check on my son. but one by one, my fears drop down like shooting-gallery banditos. The carnie-man hands me a teddy bear. its fur smooths shut my eyes. There’s a little cave inside: a safe place to sleep all winter, just enough room for one little family. 54 This page intentionally left blank. ...

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