His unmade appearance

appeared complete. He walked

with a leaning intention; his eyes

half pointed down, observing the

ground while ignoring the sky. He

shouldered a number of illusions

hidden behind shadows. His youth

was brief; adulthood was always close

to his thoughts. Days were full of

walking, quoting poems and parts of

speeches. His pockets were empty

but he overflowed with logic. People

smiled but he seldom noticed as he

followed a customary walk into town

on the side of the river familiar

to him.


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