kid blink is false optimism. he is slammed lockers and stomping feet. he is dirty hands and oily tools. he is old muscle cars and leather jackets. he is the smell of gasoline. he is snide remarks and sneers. he is a white shirt speckled with black oil. he is the smoke leaving a shotgun. he is screams of pain. he is a tough facade. he is jumping off cliffs and swinging ropes into lakes. he is summer joy. he is lit up eyes and hidden enthusiasm.
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