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It Was a Sunday

It was on a Sunday

When they had arrived.

The trip was long

And fretful. The road laid

Ahead and behind them,

Stretching across the grass

Covered ground; she had fallen

Asleep as he sat holding

the wheel firmly in his hands. A

A sound of mechanics and jutting

Movement soothed her mind and

Now they were here:

Their home at

The end of

The lane.




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