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They went up through the maze of parked and cruising cars to the brightlit,
fly-infested restaurant, their faces pleased and expectant as if they were entering a sacred building that loomed up out of the
night to give them what haven and blessing they yearned for. They sat at the counter and crossed their legs at the ankles, their thin
shoulders rigid with excitement, and listened to the music that made everything so good: the music was always in the background,
like music at a church service; it was something to depend upon.
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Feb 16 2015, 06:50
