the sun shone brightly, almost whiting out the leaflet pages of the days journal entry. sun warms, breeze cools. socks and sandals. long sleeves and holes in the knees of my jeans. the crotch was patched up by little juanita. always the first spot to go. busting at the seems of my jeans and of life.
the cigarette burns on. its owner, inside, has forgotten about it and i'm left to endure its harmful fumes.
time to move.
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