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we saw the same sunset fall beneath the horizon
and we walked the same gravel path back to our
cars– a beat up nissan sentra and a freshly painted
firebird. we shook hands before driving in opposite
directions to our homes, two separate homes.
I like to lie down on my couch for an hour, before
I retreat to my smallish bedroom and think about
whether or not you really drove home like you said
you were going to do, or if instead you had another
appointment with another friend, or if you got hungry
on your drive home and had to stop at a 24 hour
diner to get your fill of fried potatoes and oily eggs,
or if you turned your car around after you lost sight
of me in your rear view mirror and drove back towards
that gravel path and sat on the bench to wait for the
sun to rise back up in the morning when you knew
I would be sleeping.

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