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Duffel Bag

About a decade ago, I opened a checking account with a bank that doesn’t even exist anymore (NBC, bought by Suntrust (now Truist) in 2005). At the time, of course, I didn’t know it was going to stop existing. I just knew that it, conveniently, had a branch inside the Kroger I lived next to.

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Human Trafficking

I was behind a car which had a tiny sticker in the window that said “Stop human trafficking”. It made me wonder what the point was. Was it an instruction to the viewer, as though the driver expected human traffickers to be on the road behind her in Morrisville, North Carolina? Or maybe just a general expression of a viewpoint, on the assumption that the driver would regularly encounter people who are pro-human-trafficking and who may change their ideas upon seeing this window sticker?

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   The alarm clock is man’s biggest enemy, Grant thought as he slapped the buzzing monstrosity. He dragged himself along the path of his morning routine, still not quite awake. As he was pulling on his clothes, though, he was jolted into wakefulness at the thought of the unfinished calculus homework due today. Why do I put these things off? Maybe if I take the late bus I can finish it before class. Textbook, notebook, pencil, and student all managed to arrive at the table at roughly the same time. As he wrote with one hand and ate a chocolate Pop-Tart out of the other, he recalled his mother’s admonition to eat a healthy breakfast every day. Yeah, right, mom. Fortunately, the answers to half of the problems were in the back of the textbook (why do teachers even bother assigning odd-numbered problems?), and through the use of techniques with dubious mathematical validity the homework was completed and stuffed into the backpack. Grabbing a piece of gum for the unlikely event that someone got close enough to him to smell his breath, he darted out the door and reached the bus stop just in time to wait three minutes for the bus to come. Why doesn’t anything here run on time? he wondered, unaware that his watch was two and a half minutes fast. 

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The Dust Buster

I had this small handheld vacuum cleaner thing which I think is colloquially called a dust buster. I bought it at a thrift store in 2008 for reasons that escape me now (one would assume I bought it to help me vacuum up dust, but that seems very unlike me). Like all things battery powered, the batteries eventually lost the ability to hold a charge. For about a year, it just sat on my shelf ironically gathering dust.

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