What's Left When It Stops
ACT I The bus stopped at 138th Street and neither of us got off. The driver didn't wait for us. Nobody waited for anybody anymore. That was the thing about this city—you could be standing on a corner and feel like the world was passing you by and there was nothing to do about it except stand there and watch. I was Tommy. Nobody knew that. Not really. My name was on a birth certificate that had...
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