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Weekly Contest #77
I begin styling my hair, my hand so used to the motion I barely even think about it. Instead, my thoughts drift to the person I am about to see, that I haven't seen in so long ago. Mike. Even thinking about his name feels surreal. We barely even saw each other the other night at the bar, I didn't even know he was back in town. It was like seeing a ghost. Mike apparently felt the same as I remember the way his eyes widened. What surprised me, though, was how instead of asking how I was or something that people usually say when the...
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