Highway dreams

There is a lonely sweater that hangs on the chain-link fence that separates the highway from the service road. It is fire engine red and mustard yellow, and all sorts of other colours that should never be found together on the same article of clothing. It has been hanging on that fence for well over a month now, waving at me each day as I pass it by on my way to work. 
Sometimes I think about pulling over, onto the gravel shoulder of the road, and taking the sweater down from it's wiry resting place. I think of all the things I could do with that sweater, although there is really only one thing that appeals to me: I'd give it to a friend, letting them know exactly where I'd found it and exactly how long it had been there. 
Highway sweater, I'd call it. "Happy Birthday," I would say, "I got you a highway sweater." 

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