One day there was a young man hiking across America standing on an interstate on ramp on the side of the highway in Gillette Wyoming. It was snowing, and he had just spent the morning waiting out a blizzard in the town, and had been standing on the side of the highway a few hours when he saw a man making his way down the ramp toward him.
The man was dressed in dirty, torn overalls, his hair matted against his head as though he had not bathed for days. The young man put his hand in his pocket on a canister of pepper spray that he kept there for unwelcome visitors and dogs.
“You been here long?” the dirty man asked. The young man nodded.
“Where are you headed?”
“California,” the young man said.
“It’s warm out there,” said the dirty man.
“You got enough food?” said the…
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