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Free Don Part 3

“Well what’s your name?” her mind tried hard to place me.

“Don” I said quickly. I still didn’t know who she was, and wasn’t sure if I wanted her to know me.

“Don…Don…” a cab pulled up, and she opened the door and looked back at me. “How does lunch sound Don? Maybe we can figure out who you are.”

“That’d be nice.” I dropped my sign and stepped into the cab; she followed.
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We didn’t talk much while the cab drove. By which I mean to say, she talked constantly at me. I was merely the receptacle for her endless stream of thoughts. That analogy proved quiet apt as I realized how much of it really was garbage. She had asked me what I wanted to eat, but it was perfunctory. She was telling the driver where to go before the words left her lips. I merely rode. Free ride, free lunch, I could listen to her drone on for a while.

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