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9



The gaze follows you, distractedly. At least you think so. The pinpricks in your neck tells you so. Sharing an unsaid understanding,
limited by the bastards all around.
Until the inevitable end. The moment before it falls apart. The seconds of doubt and trust. The will to survive. And then the gaze
vaporizes, just as fleetingly.

And there is nothing left. Nothing but a receding feeling, withdrawing inside, taillights glowing red until gone.

The next awaits around the corner. No worry, the speed will not decrease, but, as time go by, a dull feeling rumbling. Sharing the moment
but a bleak consolation, no longer as good.

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