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Maybe it's true what they say, that accidents happen more often to people who live alone. Maybe there's a clumsiness that sets in, as you climb up out of your body and into your head. No one is there with you but the dog, the cat, the bird. A telemarketer on the phone. The television in the kitchen. The radio by the bed. You speak to all of them, but you're really only talking to yourself.

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