He was always moving. Every morning, every night, he was doing some sort of activity, always changing that involved him moving at varying degrees of speed - over neighbors fences and barreling through various front gardens following a basketball or on one of his runs. This action was matched with his open mouth and his positive attitude, he always through he was going to win and wasn’t afraid to say so - even if it meant getting into a fist fight with someone twice his side. He’s never managed, however, to hold a habit for long enough to cement it - except for smoking - after most runs he leans against his neighbor’s fence and lights up a smoke.
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