I glance at my phone and then almost without realizing it I look up and I am looking at him. He is walking towards me from Pitching St, baseball hat shadowing his face, hands thrust into the pockets of an unfamiliar coat, dodging around college kids and loud angry men in boy’s clothing. I watch him sidestep a woman talking on her cell phone, oblivious to the world as she runs by giving the whole street and her unfortunate listener the frantic play by play as she tries to catch the train. Our eyes meet and he smiles.
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