The endless Expressway set in front of him
Jack stepped on the pedal that would take him to any drugstore paradise
Line after line he sat through as the sun slowly slipped away, deeper and closer
To a place he was sure, did not exist
But still, he dragged on
And on,
Until he came to an ocean, pacific he thought
In he waded, clothes and all
and just lay there, listening to the sound of waves purring…
“Next chance I get,” he said after a while, “I’m on the first wave outa here”
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