Playing became a way of escape. Joe, my foster dad, was a heroin and booze addict. He would discuss something she had been reading, and he would give her some unexpected angle, setting a fictional character before her with astonishing clearness. Laugh on the wrong side of your mouth, now. ’ Melusine found her tongue. I completed it according to the directions, you see, and it was a beautiful machine, a triangle sort of, with a steering column I built out of an old wheelbarrow and a hubcap. ” “It was exceedingly wrong of you,” Anna declared.
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