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Saying Goodbye – Fragment #42

The last time he saw the house he built for his wife in 1962, just in time for the bairn they were expecting, was over his right shoulder as he twisted around in the passenger seat of what was once his car. As the automobile pulled slowly away from the curb, he experienced the disorienting sensation that it was the house that was sliding backwards, rather than his moving forward. He stayed twisted, looking back, trying to keep the red brick house in his sight line for as long as possible.

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