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Weekly Contest #205
His name was Jess, but we called him Ghost. The act of which he was accused, he did not do— not intentionally, anyway. His grandmother knew about stars. These three facts hold themselves clear in my mind, distinct as the moon on the night of the Fourth. The crowd that night was so large that it bordered on inane; more people than we had ever seen at one place in our little lives. It moved like a sea creature from the amphitheater where our parents dropped us off. We stood on our tiptoes to witness the miracle. Slow and bulky, yet consequent...
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