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Our old home in the kitchen wall behind the stove, in our matchboxes with the scrap quilts and the human-hair mattresses.

“So of course, it just went up like a matchbox.”

It passed people selling sculptures and paintings and bouquets and sunglasses and multicolored matchbox cars.

This is what we call a major plot twist, one that will continue to bear fruit if the green matchbox from Sam’s restaurant is to be believed.

He has lost interest in the matchbox cars he used to love, his father said.