A family huddles in the dark, somewhere, far away, waiting for dawn, while footsteps outside go door to door with ill intent; every few minutes a bomb goes off with a dull thump close enough to feel the concussion through their bodies like a second, bullying heartbeat.
Later, I'm walking the dog down a cold Brooklyn street, and one of the guys who spare-changes on the corner walks by carrying a bedroll with a, "How you doing, big guy?""Right on," I say, for some reason.
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One year ago today: Rough Trade
Two years ago today: Fickle
Three years ago today: Just Keep Dancing
Six years ago today: 12/13/10 Passing time
Nine years ago today: 12-13-07 - Where Christmas lights come from
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