4.22.2013

236 of 365

The man sat on the guardrail reading a paperback. He splayed his fingers across the pages to keep them in place as the cars sped past. A couple yards away on the narrow shoulder lay his pack, stuffed to capacity, sleeping bag rolled and attached by bungee cord. For the last hour, he had sat calmly, engrossed in his novel despite the traffic on the steep grade, a mountainous view to his back. Then he stood and attempted to cross to the median.

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