I put on boots and listen. Someone shuffling down the hall. I wait for the knock and anxious early morning moaning until the door is opened. I couldn’t be a dealer. Always working. No time to yourself is no life for me. I never had a taste for capitalism. I prefer my liberty.
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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