"What now?"
Smithson lit his Winston and fled, with a frown, from the immediate moment to some place in his mind that replayed continuously dark things like past bar fights lost and bad break ups brought up and on for months. Bad kids and tough math. Shitty breakfast. He stayed there for a good while to stay mad but ended up having to break. He bit down lightly on the clothy sponge end of the cigarette and didn't do much hiding. He grinned big and with much teeth.
Easy.
***
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