Jansport

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I walk slowly towards the small store. The little bell jangles as I walk in. It smells of plastic and cheep perfume. Then I see it. The pack of my dreams. The thing is, every time I go there, I see it, sitting on the back shelf all alone. I can't help but feel bad for the backpack. It looks as if it is begging for me to buy it. I need it... I give in.

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