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016 Biscuit
Light from the street lamps reflected off oversized panes of glass that comprised its storefront. Outside, traffic lights flashed their colors for an audience that was not there. Across the street a man stood in the vestibule of a bank, surrounded by ATM machines, practicing the trumpet. The dark yeasty smell of bread hung in the air, and the muffled trumpet played, and the traffic lights flashed their colors to no one.
A Bakery

© Twenty Three Calvin 

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