Everyday on my way to work I pass a warehouse on the way to the subway. Everyday I see an east Asian man standing outside it, sometimes he's smoking a stoge, other times he's speaking aloud to an imaginary person or pacing. He always looks sad, he may be a burn victim because he doesn't have a nose.
He wears a Yankee cap, bent and low over his eyes, and a persistent frown. I wonder what his life is like, where he grew up, what he does when he goes home, his loves and losses. I will wonder all these things all over again tomorrow as I pass him by on my last day of work.
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