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  • A small car sits across the pond from me, its headlights on. Half of the pond is totally frozen over, and the reflection of the car lights are strong and sturdy, running side by side like double yellow lines in the moonlight. The lights also reach the part of the pond that isn't frozen, and their reflections ripple softly across the murky water, interrupted only by the occasional landing of a duck or surfacing of a small fish.

    I look away for a moment to take a sip of my coffee. When I look back at the pond, the two yellow lights slowly shiver back towards land, and I watch the the car back up and drive out into the street, its wheel handled by two invisible wrists. Red tail lights follow suit, just barely skimming the surface with their acrylic shimmer. Moments later, two more cars start up and make their exit. Then another. The gentle pond is suddenly a mirage of lights flowing effortlessly across its compass.

    Quite some time passes as I patiently wait for other cars to start their lights. A few beats of silence, and I realize I am the only one left in the entire park. The world is suddenly as grey as I'd ever seen it.

    I take a breath and put down my coffee, feeling the dusty growl of my engine purr beneath my feet. Tonight I do not see it fit to sit in the dark and contemplate the concept of framed lonesomeness as the cold air stretches itself across my window, creeping at the edges of my left elbow. I wave good night to the pond, flickering my headlights on and off.
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