Cigarettes never last long enough. I toss mine on the ground and crush it with my toe. Through the side door and up the metal stairs. I unlock my apartment and enter quietly. My typing is fast. The words won’t stop. This is my blood.
Lovers in swan shaped boats paddle along the canal. The late afternoon sun shimmers on the surface. Hordes of people wander the banks in various states of undress. They walk dogs and hold hands and hurriedly eat ice cream before it drips down the cone. Simple pleasures cure the lives we lead.
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