Yesterday, while passing a vacant bus stop at 41st Avenue and West Boulevard, I noticed a black pocket-sized Moleskine notebook lying on the ground, the first three pages filled with the beginnings of a story.
Rather than post a picture of the notebook, I will supply a line from the story (at bottom). If you can provide additional details, then I will assume that it is yours.
"When Boris saw Mrs. Silva reaching up into her fig tree, to test the ripeness of its fruit, he raced to his sock drawer to fetch his binoculars and lube."
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