I finish tagging the side of the train, tossing empty spray cans on the ground, i let go of my shirt that i was using to cover my nose and mouth. The tag looks pretty good, other than the fact it’s dripping a little, my clothes and hands and face are covered in little splatters of the paint. I step back to admire my work and someone catches my eye. They’re standing a few yards away, under a street lamp, just watching me. I face them, my expression cold.
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