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When the old keeper forgot one latch, the 400-pound silverback reached through the steel

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I wrote what I could defend: seated near fig trees, arms flexed, calm breathing, no signs of distress, duration four minutes. Then I would close the file and stand there a little longer than necessary, watching the space between his arms as if memory, in the end, might be less like a picture than a weight the body still knows how to carry.

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