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  • Grandad always said when the wind blew over the oats stubble, it was almost fall.

    There's a clarity of light these last few days of summer, honey thick, sweet with memories.

    And the Fair is back in Bloomsburg -- the lights, the loud music, the shills.

    SNAKES GONE WIIIIIIIIIILLD!

    SHE LIVES! SHE BREATHES WITHOUT A HEAD!

    YOU CAN'T WIN UNLESS YOU PLAY! C'MON, BE A WINNER!

    The aroma of vinegar and french fries tangs the air.

    Tawdry, bright, sweet. How can you resist?

    C'mon.

    Be a winner ...

    ... because tonight the chill of winter hides nearby.
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