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This chapter is from the book
Waiting 35 Years
Walking on the streets of Chicago, shooting whatever I could find, run into, or get lucky shooting. I saw this woman rearranging her clothing. I couldn’t see specifically what she was doing. Her back was to me.
I did know that the man, patiently waiting for her to finish whatever she was doing by the gesture of his body and the look on his face, had been waiting for her like this for 35 years.
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Page 9 of 9