Darrell flicked his cigarette to the curb.  “This world,” he said, “it ain’t what we was promised.”  He paused and looked off somewhere.  “I used to be somebody.  I used to be somebody.”  He repeated it, a lonely mantra in the wet greyness.  Looked down at the cigarette butt, a thin finger of smoke curling upward, and then back off again for a long time and his eyes got glassy. “Maybe not,” he said.  His knuckles were raw.  He hadn’t slept in days and his hands were shaking while he picked at this claws.  I threw him a quarter and went on my way.  Out of the corner of my eye I saw him light another cigarette, close his eyes, and breathe deep the damp air.

Darrell flicked his cigarette to the curb.  “This world,” he said, “it ain’t what we was promised.”  He paused and looked off somewhere.  “I used to be somebody.  I used to be somebody.”  He repeated it, a lonely mantra in the wet greyness.  Looked down at the cigarette butt, a thin finger of smoke curling upward, and then back off again for a long time and his eyes got glassy. “Maybe not,” he said.  His knuckles were raw.  He hadn’t slept in days and his hands were shaking while he picked at this claws.  I threw him a quarter and went on my way.  Out of the corner of my eye I saw him light another cigarette, close his eyes, and breathe deep the damp air.

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