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17 Erno and Me Erno sat paralyzed on the thick-painted bench outside the station. I knew him as athletic, jumping rope, throwing around a medicine ball. But that was thirty years ago, action trapped in photographs his buddies took aboard his ship. Erno sits on the bench Every day and watches the trains roll by. I saw my grandson head out of here when all he had were eyes that looked back at me from the bottom of the window, he said. Since then the grandson grew large and burly, albeit far away from this little hamlet where Erno talked to me. He’s not going to return, He said. He could be on every train that rolls by,but he’ll never come back. I looked at myself 18 in the washroom mirror of the tiny depot. I had to be sure. I felt weak and delirious, having seen Erno, alive, on a marvelous golden day. ...

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