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64 Nightride Moon came out from behind a hill. Didn’t talk to me much like it used to. Moon was a waning gibbous, hung like a ripe peach over a small farmtown and then moved on. I was moving too. Down below, me and my car, we moved this way and that over dark country roads, winding around in the dark, except for moon. Moon played cat and mouse, first one place and then another, first ahead and then behind, then off to one side. Moon never stands still. Neither do I. H.J. ...

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