For three days I have been scanning riders at her tram station. I watch for her cocking her head sideways, her long brown hair covering the arm of her glasses, curtaining off her alabaster complexion. Her buttoned up dress is nowhere near. At twelve, a giant, near whom I no longer feel tall. Except for my feet: they are long, but hers are longer. I probe around, like my tongue would in my mouth for a cavity, but no one answers. Finally, I hear a girl whisper something about a weakened immune system on her way past the oddball section.
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