I was stranded by the roadside, trying to hitch a ride west. I had had a half-baked notion about following the sun. And the east was beginning to sting my soul.
He stopped and spoke to me; his voice was plausive, calm, persuasive. His smile was gentle and his eyes were kind.
It didn’t matter that the seats of the car were faded, or that the radio played a melody which jarred my heart. It didn’t matter that he was travelling south and the puppet master’s strings were pulling me west.
He offered me a way out.
And I took it.
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