A Durham Story by Brian Howe

Last night I was alone on Parrish Street, waiting. I stood under a streetlamp, yo-yo-ing. It was very misty and cool. Out in the country, the storms had felled trees, but the city just looked washed. Eventually, a couple came walking down the other side of the street. “A guy with a yo-yo,” the woman exclaimed, half to the man and half to me. “That’s so Durham!”

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