ponytail

Besides. The shattering of that glass and the breaking of that anemic silence was enough violence for one day. No more seemed possible. I looked up from your book and there, all of a sudden, was a man. I thought he looked familiar, but from where I couldn’t say. The library, perhaps? He had scraggly gray hair, pulled into a ponytail. I smiled hello. He was wearing a black concert T-shirt with lightning flash letters. I

don’t remember the name of the band. It must have been a band I’ve never heard of.

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