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Little wisps of fog charged at the windshield of Angela’s Corolla as it wandered in the night, deep in a maze of paved-over indian trails, wagon paths, and modern blunders bored through a forest as dense as it was ancient. A thick leafy canopy reached around the road like a grasping hand. The Corolla’s dim, foggy headlights served as a surrogate for whatever little moonlight could reach the tarmac below. She was looking for a gravel road.

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