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The noise of life

The wallet he took from his left pocket was thick, the leather worn from age and abuse. It’s only a shade lighter than his skin. From it, he removes several white plastic cards.

“My boy down in Maryland does them for me.” he said, thumbing through the cards, selecting one in the middle. “I got Virginia, Maryland.. he can do anything. Look how real it is”

The dark skin man thrust an ID towards me from the cold steel bench were he sat.

“Cool” Glancing up at the fake ID, it looks fairly real, but I don’t know the difference anyway. I can’t help but wonder how he managed to get his wallet, along with half-a-dozen fake IDs past the cops and the COs, but it doesn’t matter.

“So what kind of hacking did you do?”

The urge to defend myself of the supposed crimes is overwhelming, but defeat surrounds me with an aura of shame. “It’s a long story.” I reply.

“Yeah, they gonna monitor you forever They’ll put a device…”, he continues. His words blur together into the single, horrible noise of my new life: felon

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