Tango through words

The curly-haired boy thumps in a dino t-shirt and Nike shorts up from the warm suffocating oven-like downstairs with its childlike stuffed animals to the silent bedroom and the laptops humming on the desk and its surface of wood hidden by tchotkes, and pushes through the piles of watched blu-rays, searching for the quick sale, ignoring the roommate’s questions of unnecessary curiosity, through eBay and Craigslist and ecommerce apps growing on the mobile phone toward the silent girl tapping her fingers on a black cushioned chair and smiles at her and looks at the eyes from the girl at the dining table of his home.

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