The Angle

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In lieu of an abstract, below is the essay's first paragraph.

"We sat on the stoop of our musty green house. Its white shutters peeled in the Florida humidity . The wooden boards beneath us flattened our behinds and stuck to our flesh when we stood up. I pulled my knees to my chest and wrapped my skinny arms around my bruised legs. We thought of our house as a wicked castle and the two of us as maidens in distress. Together we dreamed that a pair of handsome princes on fine white horses would sweep us away through the orange blossoms to some magical land. The princes never came."

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