Michelle had charitably taken to sitting with Lucy during Lunch Period, where she assumed a station at the outer edges of the Cafeteria, the crowd diffusing in concentric orbits, the middle tables reserved for only the most prestigious castes. He saw rifts in clouds—sunshine. The three of them laughed joyously. I know he is dead. They unloaded Michelle’s sleeping parents who had been propped up in the back seat, necks craned against each other. “Your arrival is really most opportune.
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