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Starting Out

Aug Stone


o,” I declared. “I’m off to make my way in the world.”

“Watch out for the big bat,” he replied.

“The big bat?” I queried.

“The one that will knock you back down every time you try. Cracking your ribs while tickling its own. Not to mention the blows to your kneecaps, jugular, and the rearranging of your imagined good looks . . .”

“Oh,” I scratched my right temple, “. . . I thought you meant the flying mammal.”

“Well, there’s that too.”


Aug Stone