Under the Bridge

And off you rode, into the setting sun.

It’s just a road.

It’s probably not even a special road.  No more special than any other.

And it’s just a bridge, over which a train will pass.

And it’s just a sun.

It’s a setting sun, an hour from settling for the night, but setting nonetheless.

Question: should I have photoshopped out the sign? Apparently, I lean toward No.

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