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  • I ignored the Splendid. I avoided the Treasures. I just couldn’t.
    I just couldn’t.

    I moved slowly along the cracks.

    Where the small called.

    The taste of salt caught between the leaves of a fried artichoke.
    The bite of death escaping a corner butcher shop.
    The shush of pigeon wings along a shadowed street.
    The curl of a beggar’s hand at a church door.

    This could be anywhere. I could be anyone.

    I gave in to the glimpse, the snatch, the whatever.

    And the windows.
    Always the windows.

    And all their unexpected, layered revelations.
    Their unintended gifts.
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