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We spent the last few weekend hours in our neighborhood close to our house.
Close to our heart.
Keeping an eye on the new people
From other places. Moving to our spaces.
Progress. Progression.
With fleece vests and boat shoes (no boats in sight.) and bars with babies. And dogs. And those things that hold sunglasses around your neck when you don’t want to.
Dogs in bars are fine. But I worry it hurts their ears.
And baby ears.
I’m a big baby. I want the people with fleece vests and giant credit cards to go away.
The college to condo crowd.
Plastic posturing.
The shallow season.
Get your foot off my barstool kid.
I’m wearing motorcycle boots and I don’t match.
I was fine before you got here.
My dog would never last in this place.
He’s a hound. Dammit.
Just like me.

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