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Hitchhiker

2001-10-10 - 5:44 p.m.

Work extends on into the horizon. I'm sticking my left thumb out at the highway, shuffling along while my other hand shields my eyes from the sun. I look back and wonder if it was all just the heat, some weird mirage dripping candle wax onto my brain. Cicadas start chirping. Night seems to be coming, but not just yet. It's odd: I don't hear a single car and this road leads off to the big city.

I wonder where everyone else went.

I keep going.

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