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If you played rock, then Navvy Jim’s eyes must’ve lit up for a moment —

When he was playing against you, back when.

He would have given you a secret smile.

“Paper wraps rock,” the rock-paper-scissors-playing robot would say.

He likes people who throw rock. It means love to him — love given, love known, love received. He’d smile at you and you could tell that he loved us; all we vivid, peculiar residents of the world.

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