Okay, must admit that I'd thought this ride was over. That the engine had stalled, no tow truck in sight, key's turning over, no sounds. Then fuck me, a cherried-out 1965 mustang moseys up the street, quiet, just kind of basking in that, gee I am a bad ass car but I don't need to flaunt it, mode. Want a ride
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Comments 17
Must admit I couldn't be more coherent than you regarding the writing. Just when there might a smidgen of healing... cliffhanger. Maybe even foreboding?
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