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There’s an old guy I see almost every day on my way to and from work, he always hangs around this one particular intersection — sometimes I see him standing on one side, sometimes I see him standing down by the service station, sometimes he’s in the process of ambling from one side to the other, but he’s never more than about 50 metres away. Except weekends: twice now on the weekend I’ve seen him making the slow trip back up the hill from the shops with a trolley-load of beer.

Of course, every morning if he cares to look he sees me driving in one direction, and then coming back again in the evening, so he probably thinks my life is just as boring as his.

I like stories.

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ab

Well, AB's just this guy, you know?