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August 16, 2011

The city is too bright for all but the bossiest of stars. In early spring, the Big Dipper juts at a right angle to my neighbour’s roof, like a hatch lifted from the shingles. By August, it has dropped low, doing what it does best. Dipping a perfect dip from their flat garage. Tonight, the brightest constellation, visible long before the sky grows dark, is formed by three drops of rioja where our glasses stood.


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