[Voiceover] My addled brain tries to connect the dots, wondering how it is we've come to this place. Cold, stark blue-light lodging, indifferent to hope, desire, love, lacking all but the most basic amenities. ... Perhaps this stainless steel and formaldehyde rest stop stands as a post-mortem reminder ... a kind of finger-wagging, refrigerated warning hung for all to see. ... For those inclined to feed the bears, beat the light, traverse thin ice, run with scissors, get rich quick: Here but for the grace of God goes you.
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