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May 1, 2011
Christopher cruised down Manchester Rd tapping the steering wheel idly. The pavement gave way to a rustic dirt road; he began spewing up clouds of dust behind as the car shook. Suddenly, the road came to an abrupt end. Christopher slammed on the breaks and did a 180 before exiting his vehicle and leaving it by the Sycamores, sporting fist-sized roses in bloom. The car would have to stay. He threw his climbing gear onto the ground in irritation, simultaneously slipping off his dress shirt and khakis and substituting them for torn jeans and an oversized black t-shirt.