After work I walked through the subway turnstile behind a man carrying a ladder. I was reading Waiting by Ha Jin, just about to finish it. On the train I thought I had only fifteen more pages so I stopped on the stairs but then saw there were ten more I hadn’t noticed, 297 to 307, so I went to the supermarket. The cashier was the same as the one at the check-out I went to yesterday. I go to the grocery store too often here.
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