And then I passed my former self, traveling in a portal on a highway of dreams from one-sided, three-way mirrors to monodical tears of broken glass.
I smiled and waved at myself as I swerved into a ditch and centripetally flung myself into a Petri dish, in which I grew mold faster than the bread that was broken to save my life.
I turned down my music but didn..t stop for myself because the wind had too much of a bite for hanging around to help.
The north wind curled its fingers around my bumper and coaxed me to pedal the metal and high tail it home.
Some people blame it on their arrogant ancestors, slaying their brothers for an acre of soil and a cup of tea; but I blame it on Cain because I was his Hand in the tall grass as eyes pierced with disbelief ricocheted right off my heart like an arrowhead from a steel breastplate.
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