I bought a book in a shop called Chapters.
BEEP-BEEP-BEEP-BEEP
The security guard:
'Do you have a receipt for that?'
I rummaged for the piece of paper, all eyes upon me.
I found it finally, and the security guard let me go.
All eyes upon me, I left in a fog of undefined guilt, considering the sodden formulaic banality of my life in chapters.
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