Fifty Fifty

Ragged? Yes. He sat on the next bench down the sidewalk arguing with himself for more than a half hour while I sat just taking in the square and the weather. Yes, it was maybe a fifty fifty chance which way he’d turn when he got up. Coming my way it was suddenly a sure thing now, engagement. Count down ‚Ķfive, four, three, two, he paused and looked at me. I felt like a furry creature looking up from the bottom of a waste basket.
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