This town

It’s the end of the line for tony. And he knows it.
He sucks the filter of his cigarette, there’s not much left and most would’ve just tossed it by this point. But Tony’s a grim man and grim men don’t waste perfectly good cigarette butts. His glassy, tired eyes take in their surroundings; a drab world filled with apathetic faces, except those faces that always seem so docile, so friendly. Tony pays great heed to the latter, it has been his experience that a toothy grin often hides an extra row of teeth. Another bland man rushes past. He gives Tony that customary nod of acknowledgement, Tony returns the gesture and drops his filter to the sidewalk. The bus won’t come for another twenty minutes, he hears one old pepperpot say to an embittered and obviously annoyed potential mass-transit customer. Tony decides some coffee would be nice. And maybe a waffle.
With strawberries.

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