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Someone
left their lights on in the parking lot.
Inside, it was very bright, and the air felt full of
drugs--somewhat dreamy, like a dental office.
It was white, something like the other side,
the end of the blue tunnel after you die. The
floors were wide: food, guns, electronics, clothes.
Children ran up and down the aisles, their shoes
were their toys, making the store's only noise.
We'd burned gas to get there and bought some-
thing made of several different varieties of plastic.
My first Wal*Mart experience. Now I am American.
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