Nate

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  Nate sat in his second floor bedroom staring through the window at the mist covered mountains beyond the small suburb where he had been for what felt like an eternity. Absently doodling with his right hand, he drew tendrils of smoke scrawled with the side of the pencil lead. The graphite smears swirling and bleeding on the white paper. He turned to his computer screen processing numbers and scrolling upwards into oblivion. He couldn't help the feeling that there had to be more.

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