Prologue;

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The highway is never the same. Sometimes it could be dry and empty, other times it could be wet and busy.

My favorite is in the summer, just after a small rain storm, when the ground is cool and the clouds are still grey. It always seems its a scene from a sad movie.

I never have drove the same highway, I guess its because it was the way I had been raised. My mother ran from her problems, my dad never knew where I was.

I could call him and tell him I'm in Indiana, but the next day call from Kentucky. We always planed a route, shortcuts or least filled roads.

I never actually liked the highway, it was my life though, I had to do it. My mom drove every road in the United States, all cause she messed up.

I guess it rubbed off on me, cause now.. I run...

Thank you to lilybethjones for the awesome cover.

Story dedicated to my cousin Trish Marie Belcourt, a friend, teacher, daughter, and sisters.

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⏰ Last updated: Dec 09, 2016 ⏰

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