"Wanderlust can be dangerous."
Hazel's grandmother told her tall tales about stately figures coming out of the concrete walls of the overpass late at night. Gran always claimed they had been folks that became irrevocably lost to wanderlust. The desire to travel was an evil Gran often warned her about, one that her grandmother swore endangered souls. Hazel always figured she was fibbing.
Then, early one morning, quite close to Halloween, Hazel saw them for herself and decided to follow...
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