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A Dialogue In A Dark Alley

It’s just past three on a Winter’s morning as crystal frost settles on the city. Huddled in a dark alley are two men, only identifiable as such by their muffled voices which are barely audible from beneath their piles of earthly possessions.

“How long do you think we’ll be safe here?” asks one man while he tries to balance a cardboard box to shield his side from the wind.

“Well, we should probably try to get some sleep before the shop opens and they call the cops.” Says the second.

“We’re prisoners either way, aren’t we? In or out. Then again, even the jail won’t take us.” he says, while contemplating whether to turn to the very last sip of cheap vodka that he’s been treasuring just for nights like these.

Some time passes with the city sounds filling the space. Sirens, a plastic bag rolls down the street, pushed along by that icy wind.

“I picked something up in the trash by the bridge. Look, it’s an old teddy bear… he doesn’t have a face anymore but I bet he would have some stories to tell.” The man sighs.

“Trade you my last sip for that bear?”

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