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Day One Thousand Twenty Eight #DiaryoftheEndoftheWorld

I passed the morning with Quasimo. I wanted to gather as much information as possible about our missing friends. And Quasimo, for his part, desired above all else to be useful.

He told me that the tanker truck was little more than a carcass. He could make out where it had been placed in order to block the road, but its remains had been dragged from the center to the sides of the road in an area where it widened.

What puzzled him, (and it did me too), being in the vicinity of the hiding place, why did they not come in afterwards?

It then occurred to me – did they also cut off traffic somehow above our position that night?

About rwoz2

Poet, historian, writer for stage and screen. Responder to Jesus (Romans 5:8)

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