Last Paragraph of Unwritten Novel of the Contemporary Ironic Self-Aware Type
Jenny got back in the car, first taking a long last look at Atlanta Gardens. I was inside, smoking a cigarette. My hair was blown straight up on the left side from having the window open on the highway. I put down the A‑Au Encyclopedia Brittanica 1976 I’d been reading. “Everything alright?” I asked. Jenny bit her lip and looked out the window. “Yeah. Let’s go.”
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