The Unspoken Distance
The Manhattan grid is a machine designed to keep people moving, a relentless flow of yellow cabs and grey suits. I watched Leo from across the street, my reflection mirrored in the glass of a high-end boutique. He was standing there, frozen, his eyes locked on me with a hunger that made me feel like a specimen under a microscope. I knew exactly what he was feeling. I could see the internal...
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