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Where The Cold Wind BlowsWay past midnight down the road he eloquently staggered with eyes half closed, a quarter-smile on a face dementedly haggard. I asked him where he's going, he answered me "Fuck knows. Depends on which direction that the cold wind blows." Fading in the streetlight as he wandered on his way, I wondered if in daylight he might have more words to say. People come and people go- that's the way of the world, y'know.
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