8.4.11

The distilled sweat of my brow

DS:

Day two. A panel from today's labors:

4. The bastard city shrinks in Avery’s rear view mirror. The tiny white blip of a private jet flies over the city at an upward angle.

CAP: Pa was right -- which is more or less my entire childhood --

CAP: All I see in my rearview is a fat grey puddle, steaming into mirage.

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