e numerous, the sounds of traffic are less muted, and the presence of downtown Toronto seems closer. It was the kind of day that produces a torpor that can be refreshed by nothing less than a violent thunderstorm; my grandmother complained of the likelihood of a thunderstorm, too. Owen played the flashlight over the beveled edges of the gravestone; I'd seen better work with the diamond wheel-Owen's work was much, much better. Why the beer? I asked him.
But Hester and I were dangerous. Meany said. White asked Owen, who was speechless. After all, I was only eleven.
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