We made small talk. Nothing profound. I asked how long he’d been in town. He told me just under a year. I asked if he liked it. He said he wasn’t sure yet.
He finished the repair in under 30 minutes, and I paid him. As he was gathering his tools, he paused, looked nervous, and pulled something from his pocket—a small piece of folded paper.
The Note That Said So Much
After the door closed, I stood there for a moment before unfolding the paper. I expected a receipt, maybe a thank-you note.
But what I read stopped me cold.
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