When they knock down the alley house, he thought, they better collect all its shadows first.

Scoop them out with snow shovels. Soak them up with sponges.

When they built the alley house, he thought, the shadows had no choice but to crowd inside.

They should round them up and send them to work in the movies. Sell them to fashion photographers and to LASER engineers, to any profession engaged with the play and projection of light.

He’s been drinking bottled water since they demolished the alley house.

Since its shadows slipped into the drains and tainted all the tap water with gloom.

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