I walked into the bar...Ii sat next to him and his cute little notebook. He set his coffee down. Clever motherfucker, drinking coffee at this kind of bar. "Fuck", I hear him say as he tears another page out of his notebook and flings it at that girl in the corner. She doesn't notice. Nobody does. Perhaps they are used to it. His notebook is no more. It was his last page. Just two covers now. One front. One back. Isn't that how it always ends up. I look over at the window. In that time he manages to take my napkin and apply his pen to it. Clever Motherfucker.
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