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Weekly Contest #27
The train was bound for somewhere far away. The sounds of the engine and the wheels, the chugging, were all anyone could hear for miles and miles until the violinist started to play. Anthony heard it first while asleep, head leaned up against the window, slipping down every now and again to half-wake him with a jolt before he settled back again. He hadn’t been able to afford the bed car, but he had settled his belongings all around him to dissuade any new arrivals from sitting with him. The last two days had passed in a haze of cornfields, p...
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