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  • Once upon a wall there was a boy painted on graffiti.
    A lot of people passed by that street. Some of them looked at him. Some of them wouldn't even notice him. Among those who did notice, some would think he was ugly, badly painted, and an act of vandalism.
    He didn't care. He loved each and every one of them.

    Dark was the night. And the street lamps didn't help much.
    The boy stuck his head out of the wall, as usual. Looked at a side, looked at the other. No one in the street but the night watchman. The boy freed the rest of his own body from the wall and streched his limbs. Walked down to the cabin of the night watchman and knocked on the window. The man looked away from his TV and saw the boy, who was already putting two fingers together in front of his mouth; the universal sign for "can you please give me a cigarette". The man rolled up his eyes, reached for his pocket, for his cigarette pack, took one out, lighted it up and gave it away to the boy, turning his attention back to the TV, not noticing the tears in the boy's eyes. He knew the man probably thought he was dreaming when every night the boy who was painted up on graffiti in some wall came to his window to ask for a cigarette.

    He didn't care. He loved that man as if he was his father.
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