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The Disappearances

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 By Vijay Sephardi   "Where was it one first heard of the truth?"  On a day like any other day,   like "yesterday or centuries before,"   in a town with the one remembered street,   shaded by the buckeye and the sycamore--   the street long and true as a theorem,   the day like yesterday or the day before,   the street you walked down centuries before--   the story the same as the others flooding in   from the cardinal points is   turning to take a good look at you.   Every creature, intelligent or not, has disappeared--   the humans, phosphorescent,   the duplicating pets, the guppies and spaniels,   the Woolworth's turtle that cost forty-nine cents   (with the soiled price tag half-peeled on its shell)--   but, from the look of things, it only just happened.   The wheels of the upside-down tricycle are spinning.   The swings are empty but swinging.   And the shadow is still there, and there   is the object that made it,   riding the proximate atmosphere,   obl