He put on the shades and buttoned down the coat. A walk at night deserves a thick scarf,
but that remains forgotten inside with his care for the world. The sounds of motors running
and wheels tampering the snowy grounds remind him of a place shared with others. Ill
mannered paupers screech profanities, while those truly in need bear no temper towards
the others. There was a time when things were better. When a house was a home and
people cared. Weekends represented the week ending and nightfall determined the day's
end. Everything which he cherished existed only in thought.
All alone, he would walk the streets, in search of ...
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