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Penguin and Paper

A conglomerate of my random thoughts

A guy walks below my window just now – tall, bald, mid 30’s. I’ve seen him before: Yesterday he was walking across the street from me, talking on his cell phone about quitting smoking, about how it was hard at parties; about people who just get to step outside for a minute, about how he couldn’t do that anymore. I felt a brief pang of guilt because I occasionally step outside for a minute during parties too, and I silently wished him luck with quitting.

Just now, down on the sidewalk below my window, he has a cigarette in his hand. I guess some days are harder than others.

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