Halloween Story: The One that Got Away by Raoul Izzard

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Wisps of faces pass in the shimmering heat of the August sun, as you flicker through the pages of the daily. From the cover of the cafe parasol, you see: khaki shorts with baggage in tow, map flapping behind like a bedraggled tail; long legs, biros holding hair buns tight; hopalong school bags, clasped hands swinging like a metronome; and everyone rushing about like their lives depended on it, weaving around each other, moments from a collision that never happens.

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