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Boy, Wind, Gilles + Félix
The north wind whips through, in the streets papers and leaves are chased with resentment. Houses moan, dogs curl into balls. There is something in the afternoon’s finger, a catfish spine, a rusty nail. from The north wind whips by Víctor…
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Girl on the Monkey Bars
There is a story about the miners at the Arctic Circle that Kathleen Stewart (2007) tells. The men are putting out cigarettes, every one they smoke, on the backs of their hands. The…