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.:. House Move Breath by breath 40 pneumatic jacks are raising their stubby arms in the dark cellar up toward the light. It comes as a seam around them, a blazing geometry they see and can't see past as the house lifts. Wind spins ancient dust over the cellar floor and flowers bend their bright faces down into the cool dark, ooohing. They can see the little roots they've woven through the earth all these years. They've always wondered where they stood, but never in their wildest did they dream this-goodbyes from their own house, perched on a truck rolling up the road, up the hill, waving and waving its doors and shutters. Never, never did they dream this enormous emptiness theirs now forever. 55 ...

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