I can’t help but smile at the boy in the red shirt with the white shoes as he passes me in the library. With Page France playing at the perfect volume in my ears I’d smile at anyone. My smile turns to a quickened heartbeat as I watch him walk away, exactly to the beat. He must be listening to the same song. For 12 seconds he and I are thinking, breathing, living to the same rhythm.
http://www.myspace.com/pfranceee
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