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12 | The Sacred Tree

"LANG!" there was Mr. P's voice called out to me while waving.

Apparently, he had returned from a march against the eviction of Saltyville and Saltyroth-Dolly. He returned in one piece, unscathed after the clash with the IMD crowd earlier.

"Yo man," I replied, Jamaican style. "Still being alive, huh?"

"Damn you," replied Mr. P.

Mr. P then gave me a cigarette, while Matt seemed happy to live the action creating circles of cigarette smoke exhaled through his mouth. Mr. P, Rooney, Muck, and Flatty then asked if there was any need for Kacey to look for me.

"Kacey urged me to take responsibility for —”

"Fuck you!" they burst out, could not accept my unfinished explanation.

I asked my friends, what is the next schedule. In fact, I did not write it on the first day of the lecture yesterday.

"Semiotics," Mr. P tried to answer.

"It's psycholinguistics," said Rooney.

While my other friends did not seem to care.

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