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March 28, 2013
Trey started to feel the exhaustion at the end of the day, but it wasn't the same kind he experienced in the office. He simply felt like sleep, whereas before, he'd find his mind racing. The night was quiet. A road through the woods reminded him of part of a Robert Frost poem: The woods are lovely, dark and deep. But I have promises to keep, And miles to go before I sleep, And miles to go before I sleep. And with a slam of the car door, he headed back across the parking lot, into the store.