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There is only retrograde

0400 on the Georgia line he hammers south on 75 hoping to get through Atlanta before the locals wake and turn it into the usual shit show. The morning heavy with smoke and suffering.

On the other side she sits on the edge with the lights shut off drinking whiskey and wine and hoping sleep finds her before the monsters do. The night heavy with fog and longing.

Staring into their darkness they wonder how different life could be if they weren’t always afraid. If only once they could be brave.