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He thought he would have grown accustomed to walking alone at night. Maybe the repetition - the sameness - the unremarkable consistency was starting to wear thin. The voices he normally heard sounded ominous this time, as if they were warning instead of merely being unwelcome company. The breeze had an edge that partnered with the voices. It wasn't a chill breeze, but it was chilling.
He wondered aloud at the seeming turn of events - not understanding the feelings of claustrophobia and concern. Guessing at the reasons behind these unwelcome feelings only increased his worry - turning it into recognizable despair. He called out softly, hoping someone - somewhere - would reach through the fog surrounding his thoughts and pull him into a place more comfortable.
No one came. What was he thinking?
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