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The Ring by Kate Jayroe

BIG BOLD black and white stripes. Whistles so shiny you can see your own sweat in them and the smell of spilling hops and potato grease, sugars of all sorts. Washed and unwashed denim and XXL cotton tees and costumes. The boy wears a tall and silly wig with big, blonde spikes. He sits with his fists balled tight and going light in his lap. There are lights and big metal screens. Cages, everywhere the eye can go.
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