J W

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Unlike them, Hannah had adapted to the liquid elasticity of the after-midnight hours. Oncoming headlights bent at impossible angles; neon refracted off windows and windshields. Every shadow stretched and warped, like reflections in a fun house mirror. Laughter, music, the whole human imbroglio half smothered by the weight of darkness. She liked the world better that way.
Graveyard Shift
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