He flipped through several pages of Poets & Writers before realizing that he was neither a poet nor a writer and had erroneously chosen his magazine. He kept reading, however, as it filled him with a tremendous sense of proclivity. Or, perhaps, it was the Double Whopper with Cheese (extra onions) agitating in his stomach. Either way, he feared moving and remained still, pretending to read about Donna Tartt.
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