show

Fairs and airports suck. But
there are rocks shaped like extinct
animals by extinct animals in the
in the far end of the ocean, and
a crossroads near the forest covered with
writhing tree trunks. Hoboes are silent,
each one with a huge key hastily
made of wire. And behold
a would-be headless woman; she heavily
leans on a cane, she
wanders around looking for a show. She is
a show.

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