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Summary
The motel room was quiet, not silent, no not with cars rushing past on the highway just outside its fragile walls, not with transports making the cheap paintings shake and tremble. But it was private, tucked away in the backwoods, a building that was decrepit and barely on its last legs…abandoned.
It was almost as though it were built for this purpose.
Series
- Part 17 of Somewhere Between Kansas and the Open Road
- Part 6 of I Know It Hurts 2020