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it is late at night about 11pm, you have left your apartment and headed towards the shop like you always do on a Thursday night, you keep yourself to yourself as you walk down gritty streets of the north parts of this city. as you turn a corner, drunk men look at you with hunger in their eyes and I don't like it, you asked them nicely to move so you can pass them but they don't, they block your path, i grit my teeth. i shouldn't care, i should of got rid of you 3 years ago but i couldn't
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