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Fuck you, raccoon.

I like to walk alone. It lets me think about things. It lets me create things. The sounds I hear, the things I see--they make scenes in my head. For movies. Or stories. It's nice. Kind of meditative. Just drifting into a different way of thinking.

I passed a trash can on my way home last night. Something rustled inside of it. I stopped and listened. The rustling continued. I was alone. Slowly, I stepped closer to it. It was too dark to see anything. I peered over the edge of the can. Black.

The rustling continued.

I leaned over to get a better view. Suddenly, a large raccoon jumped out of the can. I jumped back. "Ohfuckingshit!" I said. Not very cool. The raccoon climbed out of the can and waddled calmly into the bushes. I clutched my chest as my heart rate returned to normal.

Fucking raccoons.

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