Pascagoula Public
I remember the smell like dried mushrooms and tree bark, a touch of vanilla and sawdust and smoke. There were secret doors that I imagined only I knew about, hidden windows that filtered daylight...
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Imagine lightning here. I’d been driving for hours. The sun was a shining disc in my rear view mirror sinking in a blaze of neon tangerine and blood red. The road ahead of me was ribbon of badly...
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