left on the line 🪟
She has her jacket folded over one arm and her backpack on her shoulders, and she looks directly at him as she sails by. “Good morning, Mr. Jones.”
She says it so brightly, so sincerely as if she were passing him on the street, that he almost forgets he just watched her climb out a boy’s window.
He can only respond, “Morning, Betty.”
OR, F.P. is just trying to enjoy his morning cig and coffee whe
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