Photo by Vero Photoart
They’re watching me in black and white. Not the pregnant teen looking for a place to sit, or the young boy hunched over in front of the second hand bookshop. That place is known for trouble. Of all the people they could watch, the camera has singled me out. I’m not supposed to smoke here.
I was stoned when the coach pulled in. She wasn’t on it this time either. A woman in a red dress stepped barefoot from the coach. She wasn’t my girlfriend but I stared at her anyway. She leaned over, stretched her long legs and slipped on her sandals.
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