I lost my notebook. Which is (was?) one of those dinky Mead ones from Aisle 7. I wrote everything in it. It is part diary/ part mind-saver. I'm envisioning a Harriet The Spy scenario that is starting to make me nervous. Luckily I had just spilled a bunch of water on it so it looks kind of raggedy.
This Asian guy came in and bought some smokes. I noticed he was missing one thumb, in addition to the thumb-joint. I spent some time thinking about how he may have lost that thumb.
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