Feral Friday: No Outlet

Abandon hope, all ye who enter here…

I pass this sign almost every day, and I never really noticed it until recently. ‘NO OUTLET sounds so final, so absolute–like a warning you’d be wise to obey. And then there’s the vigorous vine entwined around it, beginning to obscure the message, as if it wanted to smother the information and maybe lure you in and keep you, because there’s NO OUTLET…

 
Reminds me of something Karl Edward Wagner might have written, like the terrifying “kudzu devils” in his Knoxville-based short story Where The Summer Ends. After reading it, I’ve never felt the same about that town…especially where the kudzu grows. You just never know.

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