The Scars We Carry
<p>It’s around midday as I pull up a seat next to him. I had been walking around downtown meditating. It’s how I do my best thinking. Usually with earbuds. He looks like he might be taking a break from work somewhere nearby. Professionally dressed, a probable white-collar careerist. I pull out my red notebooks which catches his eye and piques his interest.</p>
<p>“What are you working on?” He says casually glancing over at me.</p>
<p>I explain I have been interviewing strangers asking the same question. He asks me what the question was as if he had already decided to play along. I oblige and he stares off against the back of the bar, looks down, and lets out a long breath.</p>
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