The Faded Road
The rain does not fall so much as it insists, a cold, gray curtain that blurs the boundary between the wet asphalt of the road and the black, silent void of the forest that flanks it, and you drive the heavy, iron-boned sedan with a steadiness that borders on the mechanical, your knuckles white against the leather-wrapped steering wheel, your eyes fixed not on the road ahead but on the rearview...
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