Parking lots always in change met my headlights. Pulling behind an ethnic store I waddled out; falling down cross legs to the curb. I lit up a pall mall and set it still burning just to my side. "Sacra Atelier". The match burst, with the same sulfur from Alum Rock Park, in my hand. Another brand growing bright. "Sapientibus satis". A third burned "Melapibus." Smashing down my foot every thing ground out and I slumped into my seat. San Jose was soon; ringing and warm, fraternal embrace. Some moments by my old house before the nights work returned.
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