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Warning
If you don't have to read every sentence once or twice, this story is not meeting the style I am rendering.

No, I never, never put much thought nor gained any peace of mind in the lline whriten Goethe, "Alles nhae werde ferry," or everything near becomes distant. He was speaking of twilight and blindness.
No, I never put much thought into ambiguity because I feared madness.

I removed myself from the situation at hand. I took inventory of the moment. I wondered if the moment took inventory of me.

Tilly Bryce was riding her moped down Williams Street on the sidewalk when I began to get anxious. She was surely supposed to ride on the street, but I heard from her ex-beau, Stev, while we were sipping Starbucks we had found in a tray on the top of an Oldsmobile in the Chevron dealership lot, that Tilly had recently been convicted of her third DUI and was not to operate a motor vehicle until some certain amount of time, but she did not consider many laws to apply to her, especially since her family was wealthier than someone like me had any idea to try to describe - even to myself - so I just nodded my head and told Stev that she was going to go to jail.

The irony was no where in the moment. My next thought was to flee, and I felt the blood and my heart momentarily pumped a big fat gush of horror towards my legs and fled I did. I should mention that most of the folks here thought I was a bit off my rocker anyway, so I was able to behave in maniacal spurts occasionally, so I didn't think much of it - until that night, anyway.

Tilly Bryce found me minutes later. With a quilt over my head and half my body in a wheelbarrow, I waited for twilight. Then I would ease home....

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