For the first time, my stomach didn’t churn, my heart didn’t leap, my hands didn’t tremble. Nothing happened at all really, except a small spike in interest, when I saw Marek come out of the station’s second hand shop, pause at the top of the stairs and then go down. One hand was slipped inside a pocket, the other rubbed his chin. His legs pulled him along in front of him and his shoulders rolled a bit.
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