Riding a shopping cart through dirty city streets, daylight but dark. Past pawnshops, soup lines, a fire station with gray-jacketed fire fighters sitting on the sidewalk. Under overpasses, through traffic, toward your car, parked some ways distant, feeling somewhat guilty that you've effectively stolen the cart, but, glad to not be walking.
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© 2002-2012 Mark Phillips.
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This writing is fiction. Please don't confuse it with reality.