The Weight of the Belt
The radio crackled on the little wooden table in the corner of Marcus Thompson''s room on West 135th Street. It was 2 AM and the voice on the radio was describing a fight that had ended four hours ago in a warehouse in Harlem, and Marcus was sitting on the edge of his mattress listening with his eyes closed, his right hand making small punching motions in the air the way he had been making them...
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