The Oasis By Steve Carr

Carl awoke to sunlight sparkling on his windshield. He sat up and stared through the bug-splattered glass at a small sign a few yards ahead that read: November Falls. Pop. 58. The painted number was fresh. His car was parked in tall grass on the side of a two-lane road that ran along a narrow, gently flowing river in a gorge bordered on both sides by steep, rocky mountainsides.

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