The Arid Motorway.

no

Do you do that?

Write something; gather it together on paper as it flows out of you.

Try to hurry because you can see the source and the open ocean beyond.

Then stop?

Sleep?

Forget?

Move on through the routine of life?

Then…

Stumble across the open page once again?

Read?

And wonder?

Wonder what it was all about?

Where this river was flowing; this river that now lies in an arid bed?

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