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They were on that freeway. The night was dark, the car lights bright. They laughed over some dirty jokes the made due to the alcohol they drank at the party.
By Mirabella on 06.29.2015
The freeway is the fasts when I need to get around. Town is the where I’m going but I don’t care much to arrive. People there are cold and distant, they’ve been riding the highways too long. When I walk into the shop their headlight eyes are scanning me. Everything. I leave hoping that it will be a long time before I come back, but I doubt it. The freeway is a prison and I don’t think I can escape.
By Daniel Serrano on 06.29.2015
On the freeway, there was once a car. In this car were three people taking a road trip. The people couldn’t remember why they were driving, however. The driver didn’t even remember waking up that morning!
By Marin on 06.29.2015
The free way the path towards freedom for some. I see it as a companion that stays with you on a long journey. Sometimes it can be overcrowded with others that see it in the same perspective
By Troy Woods on 06.29.2015
a division of Identity Crisis, Inc.