The cross road traffic does not stop. You wonder how long they've been driving. You had a friend, once, who merged into the cross town traffic. He was just going across town. He called you last week, screaming into his cell phone that his car had run out of gas months ago, it was still going, and going, and going, and the road was beginning to glow. Then the signal cut out and you haven't heard from him since. You wait for your turn, keeping your hands firmly in place on the wheel, praying that you can make it all the way through the intersection without turning.

     

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CONTENTS RANDOM