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21 Delay People churn through Penn Station. Little kids clench to their mothers, women with cheap vinyl suitcases. A few men lounge around a phone booth. An empty coffee cup crushed beside bolted-together plastic chairs. Legs stretched before me, I listen to the blurred voices, the scuff of feet on linoleum. The sparkle of a candy wrapper caught in the sigh of moving bodies. I watch for you, random particle amongst all the other collisions and swervings. We loved each other once. I arrive and disappear. You arrive, disappear, wander even farther away. Beneath the tick of the letters flipping each time a new train comes into the station, I wait. I can wait. I have been waiting. ...

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