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  • Dangling Modifiers
  • Matthew Baker

Sitting out on the balcony, the sunlight was dazzling.Looking toward the harbor, seagulls drifted through the sky.After getting drenched by the storm the night before, therewere still puddles shimmering in the street. Scattered withbroken branches and fallen leaves, littered with soggy garbagefrom flooded trash cans and sopping laundry blown downfrom clotheslines, sparkling with shards of glass from astorefront shattered by a toppled lamppost, the street's powerwas still out, along with the rest of the neighborhood's. Yes hecould understand what she was saying, he said, but technicallyeverything she was saying was wrong. She frowned andsnorted and then shook her head, taking a sip of coffee as helit a cigarette over by the railing, standing there barefoot inboxers and a wrinkled shirt. Setting the mug back down ontoher knees, her bra strap slipped down onto her arm, and shereached up and hooked the strap with her finger and pulled thestrap onto her shoulder and then wrapped her hand backaround the mug again, turning toward the street with a senseof calm. With a patter of footsteps, curtains rustled in awindow of the building across the street. It had nothing to dowith being right, she said. All that mattered was that he couldunderstand what she was saying. [End Page 29]



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