The Faded Frontier
The rain had not stopped for three days, a grey, unceasing curtain that turned the asphalt of the highway into a slick, black mirror reflecting only the fractured halos of our headlights and the bruised purple of the storm clouds above, and in that wet, breathing silence I watched the leather jacket hang on the rearview mirror, swaying gently like a pendulum marking out the seconds of our...
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