The closer we got to the apartment, the more cop cars we saw. More stop signs. More drunk dudes chillin’ on the corners. More tagged apartment buildings. A boy on a bike almost getting hit by a car. The man in the car yelling at the boy, “I could’ve fucking killed ya! Ya idiot!” I hadn’t really… noticed this stuff before. It was like the streetlamps had been changed to a different wattage, and now, even though everything was the same as it had been before, it was cast in a different light or something. The wind picked up. And it carried smells of sewage and such funkiness. I rolled up the
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