The beggar’s eyes #shortstory

I couldn’t ignore that second passing, a second meeting on that boulevard I so rarely walked on nowadays. Its asphalt was imprinted with my adolescence – there laid buried a part of me, the one who walked it daily during the four years of my high school classes. But now, so many years later, on this boulevard, meeting him twice in the past 30 minutes, again coming from opposite directions…

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