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“He’s sick”
Sick, like Roy, I thought Sick, like me
“Does anyone knohere he lives?”
They all shook their heads
“I suppose you could follow hihed at herself “I mean—”
Soo down Beachwood, once One of those bungalow courts—”
“Does he have a last name?”
No Like everyone else in all the years No last name
“Damn,” I whispered
“Coned “What’s your monicker?”
I spelled it for her
“Gonna work in filet you a new name”
“Just call me Crazy” I walked away “Charlotte Ma”
“Crazy,” they said “Goodbye”
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