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America from the window of the mover’s truck
I was sitting in the mover’s truck as it was moving parallel to the road post cables, mile after mile, day after day prowling through the vastness of America.
American possessions were safely tacked in the belly of the truck, I could see through the window kaleidoscopic images of the country of the great opportunities. I have not stayed in one place for more then an hour for six months. I felt that America was slipping through my fingers … and I decided to catch her…
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