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As eerie as the tunnels were, something about them encouraged you to spread out your imagination, stretch it in directions you couldn’t aboveground, not with the sun watching.
They could leave you while they were sitting right next to you, stay gone even though you lived in the same house.
That summer, the summer of ’77, everything had edges. The sharpness took my friends, but it cut away the blinders, too. And once you understand the truth, there’s no living any other way.
