Being nothing
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His fists curled tight. “Once the station closed, I was nothing. Jobless, penniless, forgotten.” His voice dropped, recalling darker years. “Soon even my home disappeared.
The streets welcomed me back, swallowing me whole.” Kevin stayed quiet, listening. Willem’s story unraveled like brittle thread—his identity stripped, tethered to failure, left wandering until desperation pulled him back to the abandoned tunnels.
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