
The Aging of Smiles – Part 1
The same old, paint-less cart that I had bought 20 years ago from a warehouse is right in front of me, with eatables of various kinds packed in multicolored wrappings, and with writings of different types, which I know for sure would have been intriguing and interesting if I were able to read them. In 20 years, nothing has changed except my stable hands shaking, my black hair going grey, and my face all wrinkled and tanned from the sunlight of the past score years. I have been selling the same snacks at the same spot to the rows...
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