He strode past windows,
Each shouting out at him their
Own advertisements.
On occasion he
Would turn to glance at the screens,
None interesting.
She was a stranger,
Why did he care so much? Would
He see her again?
Regardless, he still
Felt a little lonely on
The way to his house.
He made it home, and
Proceeded to sit in a
Chair to do nothing.
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