No one can remember when the street lights last worked. Now the corner is only lit by the garish glow from the 24-hour laundromat and Mr. Chow's Chinese neon across the street. I park in front of the heavily shuttered shoe store and turn off the car. "Ahhh... what the hell?" you mutter, leaning forward to peer out the window at the dark, deserted street, sparkling with jewels of false
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