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Free Smiles

I left a few songs into the headliner's set and headed for the tube, absorbed in my own reverie and itching to get home. I settled on the seat next to the window and stared out onto the platform. As the tube moved off, it kept pace with the passengers moving along the platform to the exit, and my pensive stare was obviously too much for one stylish young man. In a gesture of familiarity that is usually unwelcome in London, he tapped the window and smiled cheekily at me. A freely given smile with no hope of a return is all too rare in this town apart from babies and, lately, cute men from Blackhorse Lane ...

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