January 23, 2012
by Joel Crary
I was walking around the old neighbourhood tonight and decided to head down Bronson to Flora. You know the corner. The snow was piled pretty high by then. It was late, and the occasional car would take advantage of the empty lanes, sending slush airborne with a satisfying sound akin to tearing cloth. I lit a cigarette and stood, watching the smoke collect in clouds in front of the streetlights.
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