A guy in a porter’s overalls walks up and down the sidewalk with a dustpan and a broom. Spotting something stuck in the sidewalk seam, he proceeds to dig at it with his boot in an attempt to dislodge it so he can sweep it up and continue on his way.
It stubbornly refuses to come out, though, and he spends the next ten, fifteen seconds kicking at it, scraping it with his dustpan, and swatting at it with his broom, until it finally comes loose and he sweeps it into his pan.
He turns and walks toward me, while behind him, a cigarette butt that managed to jump out of his dustpan amidst the commotion rolls merrily down the street, zig-zagging from one side of the sidewalk borne aloft on the wing.
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