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(ROXANNE RICHARDSON, SUMMER(?), NYC, 2023)
she, apparently, took the subway the same time I did, every morning. she was on the train when i boarded and stayed there when i left. she would sit, plainly dressed in a skirt and T-shirt, even on the coldest days. alone and unmoving, expression unreadable, bulky old headphones cutting her off from the rest of the world.
but when i got on, she would always look me straight in the eye, before returning to staring into space.
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