everywhere

Winter is clearing the streets. The corner boys have taken their business underground, their lookouts are gone from the bodega steps. Everyone walks with their head down against the winds that rush at them, or the winds that are rumored to come. Even on the subway, the warmth is drained out of the riders. They burrow into their coats and scarves. They are insulated from each other as well as the cold. Nobody casts a searching glance. Nobody exchanges a nod.

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