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He wonders why no one ventures to sit next to him on the bus.

Ventures is my word not his.

I think his word is wants.

I don’t use the word want anymore. Especially in my writing. It has a sort of whiny twang that bangs on my ears and turns my inner monologue into desperation.

This story is not about me. It is about him and all his loneliness and regret and… want.

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