The gist: Something is not
in the backpack and it's this
guy's fault. That's what
the woman says, loud,
so I can hear from my seat
just around the corner.
She tells him in a not-
sorry voice I'm sorry—
I can't do the work for you.

There is a lot of unpacking
going on, but the thing
will not turn up. I know
you know where it is, or if,
but you're not telling.
I can't do the work for you.
You can hear his reply.
I try to. But all I know
is that something is not
where it should be.
When I peer around
the corner, I can see one
of them crying, or making like
a person crying, stuff
all around on the floor.


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