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Usually, when we shower, we don’t expect to be intruded upon.
It’s Sunday—that time between dinnertime and midnight when the night abutting my door is the perfect thickness, like a sable blanket. I’m in bed, still in my day clothes, …
The man wearing a baseball cap approaches our front door. Far from the door he stops and lays the box on our lawn of mostly hot dirt. Intrigued, I pause beside the stairwell. Just visible beyond the window trim is …
