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This story is one that clings to the edges of highways and riverbanks, a shadow perched just beyond the reach of headlights.
A presence older than the bridges we build and older than the towns that pretend not to see it.
By Fauna BlakewellThis story is one that clings to the edges of highways and riverbanks, a shadow perched just beyond the reach of headlights.
A presence older than the bridges we build and older than the towns that pretend not to see it.