| http://www.w3.org/ns/prov#value | - On the opposite side of the meadow's path, nestled within the trees is a 1941 Plymouth pick-up, rusted a powdery red and hollowed out accept for a milk crate where the front seat used to be.When I was a brave little girl, I would cross the street and walk to the car, and, if I was feeling especially brave, I would sit on the milk crate, look through the front window, through the wispy pines at the big, pa
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