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July 3, 2003
In time he climbed out of the car, carefully locking it behind him, more out of habit than any fear of it being interfered with or stolen. The insignia on the bonnet declared it to be his car, and it would be sheer, suicidal madness for a passer by to disturb any vehicle belonging to him.

He walked away from the road, taking his time, strolling through knee-high grass and wildflowers. The trees soon obscured the road, but the soil was too rocky to allow them to become dense. They stayed spread out, like guests at some awkward social occasion.