Published by HoneyColony

La Brea and Sunset. He was there when my car came to a stop at the traffic lights. Shoeless and ragged, he swiveled between the lanes like a faulty pendulum, handing out dirty fliers to drivers who tried to remain invisible. When he got closer, I dug my nose into my iPhone and pretended to text something urgent. By then he had plastered the flier against my window.

“They Are Already Here,” the flier read.

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