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Authors

Robert Kulesz

Abstract

I'm drunk in the bar car, deep in the spirit, sitting across from a toothless old cripple at one of the yellow tables bolted into the floor. He wears a black cowboy hat on his way back to Colorado after burying his grandson in California. We're staring sideways out the long train window. Two walking canes hang on the back of a bolted chair next to old Bill.

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