Sharing
Frowning.
Hand
in hand.
Walking.
Even
though
they're
not
talking
–
and
don't
like
life or
each
other.
War on Terror
Grey
haired lady
by
the dairy –
phones
in ears:
can’t
hear
my
“ ’Scuse me!”
I
touch her
shoulder
lightly,
Bringing
“Oh,
please, God!”
With
a prod
I
move
her
basket.
She
yells,
“Go
away!”
I
do:
A
terrorist
escapes
in
the local
Safeway.
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