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Dear Wigleaf,
The house across the street from me is a mystery. I've been here a year
and a half and never met or glimpsed my neighbors. It's the most
ramshackle on the blockâsky-blue paint faded to sick white,
yard sparse and weedy, bars on the windows from another age. I've
wondered. Of course I have.
The other day I heard a loud noise at midnight and jumped up from my
bed. Peering through my blinds, I spied a man across the street in the
mystery house, the garage door open like a wide sunny mouth and
illuminating the inside. The space was filled with mannequins, standing
shoulder to shoulder, peopled as a crowd. I understood why I had never
seen that man before now. He has everything he needs in there.
xoxo
- - -
Read FG's story.
W i g l e a f
04-23-17
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