Cash is Dead
‘CHANGE please,’ Cuan called out from under his hood as he watched a pair of heavy doc’s step by. A single drop of rain hit him on the nose and ran downwards, nesting on his lip. He was cold. The kind of cold that sat in bones causing a consistent dull ache and it had rained so much lately his clothes never fully dried. The smell of him alone would keep people away, but that wasn’t a problem these past few days it seemed.
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