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  • Running through the rain, dashing toward the metro elevator, I caught a fragment of a man's cell phone conversation.

    "…come between our friendship…" he said before I passed out of earshot.

    As I ran, I wondered what might have come first, what might have come next and who might have been on the other end of the line. I wondered why I hadn't bothered to pull the umbrella from my bag and slow down a little, and if I would have caught something far more mundane if I'd taken the time to dig in my backpack or slow my step under cover.

    I might have missed the man completely.

    Instead, his voice would stick with me all night, lilting in a Caribbean tone, rich and deep, filled with laughter and curious words.

    Come between our friendship.
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