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Jan. 12, 2009 He parked the car, got out, and put the coffee cup on the roof. He cupped his hand. Breeze. Bic. Fire. There were huge electric lights overhead. They showed the large flakes of snow falling crossways in wind. The hills beyond were covered in ice, rock, and difficult dirt. Three foxes walked there. The highway traffic had stopped. Trees threatened to come apart as they swayed. There were no ghosts. There were no people. The sky really just looks back, not rudely but definitely not warmly, and says, “What do you want?” Coffee and nicotine were friends, even if they were friends from the wrong crowd. The sounds from the electric lights roared. ------------ About the Author: For more of Brian's short stories, visit his website: http://www.freewebs.com/storyandstory/. Email Brian Barbeito: Brian1750@Hotmail.com Comment on this article here! ------------ All articles are EXCLUSIVE to Useless-Knowledge.com and are not allowed to be posted on other websites. ARTICLE THIEVES WILL BE PROSECUTED! |
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