It was nearly the weekend. Dan and I stood in the usual spot, in an alleyway just down the road where the building was almost, but not entirely, out of sight. Between an industrial bin and a parking garage. Dan leaned against the wall smoking. “Smell that. Doesn’t that remind you of last year?” Dan… Continue reading Short Story: On the breeze with a cigarette
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'We must, between periods of digging in the dark, endeavour always to transform our tears into knowledge' – Alain De Botton
The window on the street 
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