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Platform numbers are late coming up, and in the midsummer dawn outside half a day seems to have gone by already – hence, probably, people rush around and enquire track numbers of perfect strangers (dedicated staff is a few steps away – too far!) or of this pink-shirted man, somewhat plump, those are sweat stains from yesterday or the day before, his hair slicked back, who walks up and down the station in pool sandals and helps out, his services now to a woman complaining in three languages before she gets the right one that, !!They moved track 7!! His being busy looks like he could genuinely solve the problem of homelessness, once and for all, because we all smelled what it’s like to be homeless coming up from the subway below and only ground Arabica at the 24/7 café could sniff that away. That, was only 2 and a half minutes ago.

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