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In a world of neon colors, a shadowy person stands in a beam of light.
Life on Other Worlds

Brushing away sand, I uncovered the hooked claw of some long-deceased creature. It sat heavy and restless in my palm, a deadly comma, eager to get back to tearing and slicing after its long sleep. I imagined the animal. I pictured a sleek, capable hunter. I was a child. This was my passion at the time; imagining animals. Back home I had stacks of dog-eared dinosaur books with names I had memorized and illustrations I looked at every day.

The claw wasn’t genuine. It had been molded and cast by my kind, by humans, and buried in a sandbox in a museum in Oklahoma. This had been its exact purpose: to key children into the experience of finding an artifact from the past. It had worked splendidly on me. Though a fake, the claw wasn’t a total deception. Our understanding of the history of life on earth, after all, is largely imagined.

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Anyone else been having weird dreams lately? Anyone else been having weird dreams lately?

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Don't mind me, I'm just here for the time being Don't mind me, I'm just here for the time being

Juice Wars

Jim Nadeau was touring an old Forest Park juice plant he was looking to buy in the 1980s when he noticed something odd.

It was unlike other industrial buildings he had seen. The front office and front doors were boarded over and out of use. Windows on the first and second floors had been bricked up and the inside of the building was dark like a photo lab.

Nadeau turned to Joe Imburgia, who ran Del Crest Juice Company out of the building with his brother for 40 years before retiring.

Why is it so dark in here all the time?” Nadeau asked.

The Juice Wars of the 1950s,” Imburgia responded.

Nadeau thought Imburgia was joking. But he wasn’t.

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