As it became harder and harder to finish the writing, I began going to Bystander Café after work for a small writing session and a coffee or hot chocolate. It was a cheap well-lit place that stayed open late. In the top corner, there was a television that blared out pop music videos. There was an old man with a Christmas hat in there most evenings and he tried to talk to everyone. His name was Philip. I still see him in there sometimes when I pass the café.
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