walking with his head down, eveloped by a dark countenance, visibly separated from what was now. what had was all. his long dark curls bounced with his slow gait, his face peering down with a pointed intensity, as if he could decode the cracks in the sidewalk. the dark overcoat insinuated a much colder day, and the wooden cane aged him beyond his years. visually distinct, separated from a reality where most people were celebrating the first day of sun after a long winter.
Perhaps he was one day late.
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