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22 Mother, you know what worry means. You know what is bruised in the sand. And you have watched it all unfold: the tearing of crust, the stinking of day and night—mountains washed into the sea. Under all of this, there is a small house, and a wall that stops the wind from rattling the cage around your gut. You put it there because you are so quick to save the world. But the world is not a choking boy. ...

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