that old squeaky car
chapter twelve
old friends
when you are on the road for too long it's not about
the new faces anymore.
faces melt, after a while you can't shake the feeling that
you see the same face over and over again.
it's about what you actually remember, that look, that conversation,
the things that make one single thought truly remarkable.
right there, right then, it wasn't about the man driving the car, it
wasn't about the place or the time, it was exclusively about the
repetition, the deja vu that wasn't but felt like it.
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