Mrs. Yonce's first grade class. That would be me, front row, third from the right. We were about to get on a train for a class trip. We'd just heard the whistle. I still remember every kid's name, who picked their noses, who stole Edward's crayons, who set the cloakroom on fire and which one, 24 years later, was dead, because he thought he couldn't take it anymore.
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