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About Phoenix

After, she’s countin cash, and I’m starin at the ceilin, feelin like that dude in *Werckmeister*—all hollowed out. “The end’s comin,” I mutter, thinkin bout the movie’s gloom. She looks at me funny, like I’m nuts, and I probly am. I toss her an extra $10—dunno why, just felt right. She bolts, and I’m left wonderin—why’d I even bother?

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