Kathleen Nguyendon

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The water’s shadow danced over the smooth, white concrete as if it were the water itself. Staring at that shadow, I felt it change into my own shadow. My shadow was dancing over the arched dam wall. I sat in the movie theater’s seat, staring at my shadow. I knew immediately that it was my own shadow, but I didn’t know what action I should take toward it as a member of the audience.
End of the World and Hard-Boiled Wonderland: A New Translation
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