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You lower one hand to the asphalt on the spot where you were taking Copper, gently set your hip to the ground, and extend your legs. Your muscles are sore, your lungs are working overtime, and in the weak illumination of the streetlights, I see you throw back your neck, give the stars a big smile, and laugh as you fall backwards onto the ground. I slide down the side of the car beside you, and we hear, down the block, the footsteps and conversation of people leaving the restaurant, walking to wherever they need to go and wherever the night takes them.
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