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Joe stared out at the old swing-bridge in the middle of the river. Diving from that bridge was the only thing he'd ever accomplished in his life, and if he could do it once, he could do it again. Then things would be different. But the bridge looked vaguely sinister now, a rusting steel skeleton balanced on a concrete finger thrusting out of the dark water. And then there was the boy-in-the-cow.
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