There was a protest outside Thomas Jefferson, and children were lying down histrionically, pretending the blast had killed them, or radiation, or nuclear darkness, closing their eyes no doubt to better picture it...
...when the police came and began swinging clubs, giving free rein to their prancing horses, my father's eyes narrowed and he said, 'It's over, some are running, some willing themselves to be even more dead, some hiding in each other's arms'...
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