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"In which Louis goes to the grocery store every day to get a gallon of milk, and Harry is always sat on his porch with a cig in hand, watching him walk by."

. . .

He always did wonder why the boy would always go to the store every morning, at 7 am exact, and come back up the hill at around 10 after with a gallon of milk in hand. But by now Harry had just stopped wondering and just let it happen. He was pretty skinny, and worn looking, sick even. With all that milk he'd had to be drinking, he was one weak looking boy.

Harry sat down on the second step of his porch and lit a cig, waiting for the boy to walk by. He wasn't excited to be able to see him again, it was just routine. It was something he didn't look forward to in the morning when his alarm clock woke him up, but it was something that he had to have happen or else his day wouldn't be exactly right.

He heard the steps of the boy walking along the side walk, and he watched him pass by as usual. Same worn, stained sweater, same torn, ripped jeans. He took a long puff of his stick and blew, as the boy eventually disappeared behind the overgrown pine tree in the front of Harry's unkempt yard.

He wasn't the sort of person to do yard work. Before he moved out of his mum's house, they always had the best yard in the neighborhood with bright flowers of all kinds of colors, and bright grass that was well watered every day. But that was the opposite of his yard. The grass was mowed, but there were many spots where grass didn't grow, and the spots by the edge of his yard where the dog shit from weeks ago still lay.

Harry finished his first cigarette, dragging on the last bit of it before letting it fall from his fingers. It smoked below him, and he stomped on it a couple of times before kicking it to the side where a pile of them from the days before were forming.

Just as he lit his second one, the boy appeared from behind the pine tree with a gallon of milk in his right hand. He shifted it to his left hand and Harry took a puff of his cig and blew it. The boy never did acknowledge his presence, if he ever noticed. It's not that he minded, but maybe a little nod here and there would be nice, since they saw each other every day. Well, Harry did at least.

Once the boy disappeared down the street, Harry got up from his steps and went back inside.

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