The Trumpeter was outside again today. He’s out in the daylight again and I’m worried that he’s endangering his pallid complexion and risks sun-bleaching his black clothes. But more surprisingly, he was with a girl. A real girl. At least I think it was a girl, for there was no discernible figure or feminine features. It just felt like she should be a girl. And they were smoking. I think he waved but then he might have just taken another drag.
© Carlton Reeve 2008
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