His
brothers and sisters were large, loose-limbed folk but he,
The
last one, the one born at a journey’s end,
Had
possibly been put together from scraps. He was
Economically
made, a man short and dapper while they
Took
up more room than was strictly necesary; their clothes
Grew
old before their time. His shadow kept close to his heels
Theirs
jostled other folks’ on the sidewalks and disappeared
For
days at a time. All the family, and he not least in this,
Had
small magics at their command but he preferred
Legerdemain;
miracles weren’t to his liking.
After
he’d been broken and his brothers repaired him
He
never trusted himself again or anyone else.
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