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22

           ThebobbinglightofJud’sflashwasapartofit.Hefeltthepervasive,undeniable,magneticpresenceofsomesecret.Somedarksecret.

           Theshadowsfellawayandtherewasafeelingofspace.Snowshonepallidly.

           "Resthere,"Judsaid,andLouissetthebagdown.Hewipedsweatoffhisforeheadwithhisarm.Resthere?Buttheywerehere.Hecouldseethemarkersinthemoving,aimlesssweepofJud’slightasJudsatdowninthethinsnowandputhisfacebetweenhisarms.

           "Jud?Areyouallright?"

           "Fine.Needtocatchmybreathabit,that’sall."

           Louissatdownnexttohimanddeep-breathedhalfadozentimes.

           "Youknow,"hesaid,"IfeelbetterthanIhaveinmaybesixyears.Iknowthat’sacrazythingtosaywhenyou’reburyingyourdaughter’scat,butit’stheflattruth,Jud.Ifeelgood."

           Judbreatheddeeplyonceortwicehimself."Yeah,Iknow,"hesaid."Itisthatwayonceinawhile.Youdon’tpickyourtimesforfeelinggood,anymorethanyoudofortheother.Andtheplacehassomethingtodowithittoo,butyoudon’twanttotrustthat.Heroinmakesdopeaddictsfeelgoodwhenthey’reputtingitintheirarms,butallthetimeit’spoisoningthem.Poisoningtheirbodiesandpoisoningtheirwayofthinking.Thisplacecanbelikethat,Louis,anddon’tyoueverforgetit.IhopetoGodI’mdoingright.IthinkIam,butIcan’tbesure.Sometimesmyheadgetsmuddled.

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