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"Observation Deck"
  He felt himself, by small degrees, peeling away from his home, and from Margaret. Each item he placed into his briefcase seemed to release a clasp. He felt something of an airy lightness in his chest; he would often become clumsy, in a way that made him feel he was a stranger in his own body.
    "The Lincoln"
Once there were more keys. Keys to their two-bedroom house when he was working at Chrysler, making eighteen dollars an hour installing windshields in New Yorkers. That job had felt as if it would last forever, and he and Caroline did their part in the American consumer economy.
 
"These Things Happen"
The neighborhood into which Drew was driving McCracken and Angela was not one that shared its streets with limousines very often. This Drew understood from the reactions of the residents. A middle-aged woman screamed like a child when the car rolled past her porch.
"The Difference"
He sat on the edge of the drain pit as the contents of the main filter tank spewed and hissed in a dirty grey froth. When the water was clear again, he shut down the pump and returned the valves to their normal position.
"Being Out of State"
Steven was smart enough to check, if he wanted to. He could find the house, maybe when I wasn’t home, when only Jean and the kids were there. I’d have to tell her about this, tell her to keep a close eye on the kids when they were playing outside.
incipient

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