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I wonder if the uncle thought no one could see him (no one seemed to notice), I wonder if he thought I would just let him do it (I didn’t say anything), I wonder if he thought I would take him up on some offer (the adult in me now yells angry insults, as if the one adult in the green-white-brown shadows of that room to stand up and protest, ‘What kind of asshole is this guy!?’).

Read “Still Life with Nixon on the Beach” by Elissa Field.

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