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Golden Hour Hope

The miles of road stretch out before me as far as the eye can see with the thin ribbon of road cutting a tiny way through the golden fields.

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The miles of road stretch out before me as far as the eye can see with the thin ribbon of road cutting a tiny way through the golden fields. 

Rolling and rolling, endless like my sorrow. But in this golden light and expanse of space, perhaps it is golden like the hope I find welling up within me.

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