The hanging star falls to the west, the heavens and earth become one and cue our travels.
Hazy smears of pink and orange spilt the horizon from the approaching darkness.
The road melts into shadows. The celestial bodies awaken. The sky goes black.
The past is put further and further behind us and can be seen in the mirrors that watch our back. We simply aviate between two collided worlds.
Our eyes can only pick up the yellow lights rushing by port side and red lights that we pursue. Vehicles of other travelers searching for rest.
In the distance the lights of a small city are speckled strategically in the black. They tell us where the earth ends and the sky begins. White and yellow lines draw our course.
We fly through the black. Faster now. The illuminated city peeks in and out of flint covered silhouettes. It comes closer with every intercepted minute.
Our compass points north and we chase the arrow until we find our final stop.
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