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A Journey Into The Darkness
The streaming noise of the freeway reverberating in my head plays like a soundtrack to my staring session with the ceiling. It is close to four a.m. on a Thursday. I estimate that the final live-haul truck of the night is arriving at its endpoint. When mid-morning arrives, the truck will unload its cargo—5,000 chickens—at the processing plant located one hour away from my home. “I wish I was there with you,” I think to myself. “I will return soon.” I cover my ears with the melodic voice of James Taylor and close my eyes.
The streaming noise of the freeway reverberating in my head plays like a soundtrack to my staring session with the ceiling. It is close to four a.m. on a Thursday. I estimate that the final live-haul truck of the night is arriving at its endpoint. When mid-morning arrives, the truck will unload its cargo—5,000 chickens—at the processing plant located one hour away from my home. “I wish I was there with you,” I think to myself. “I will return soon.” I cover my ears with the melodic voice of James Taylor and close my eyes.
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