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Dusk. The black of undermaintained asphalt in a ribbon rolling over the volcanic hills, the yellow of the centerline flashing into view and passing beneath in a rhythm, like a heartbeat. Jackrabbit on the shoulder ***** his head and springs away from something in his imagination, following the yellow dashes in an awkward gait, a single bold jump followed by twenty yards of dead sprint. Not eight feet overhead a pair of nighthawks bob and flutter erratically but following one another in pursuit of something I cannot see.
0
Jul 14, 2018
Jul 14, 2018 at 2:44 AM UTC
Out in the sageflats
Dusk. The black of undermaintained asphalt in a ribbon rolling over the volcanic hills, the yellow of the centerline flashing into view and passing beneath in a rhythm, like a heartbeat. Jackrabbit on the shoulder ***** his head and springs away from something in his imagination, following the yellow dashes in an awkward gait, a single bold jump followed by twenty yards of dead sprint. Not eight feet overhead a pair of nighthawks bob and flutter erratically but following one another in pursuit of something I cannot see.
j-c-lucas
Written by
American
Jul 14, 2018
Jul 14, 2018 at 2:44 AM UTC
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