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Quirky and qutoable

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      It's two o'clock in the morning and I am eating at a truck stop. This time of night is the twilight zone where some people are not quite ready to go home yet.

Truckers eat and relax before rushing to their final destination. They criss-cross the country, always pushing their limits. They have money to make, deadlines to meet. The highway is their companion and their enemy. The horizon of the land is elusive, a mirage of asphalt and dirt.

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