From the eighth floor I could see the fake bus stop.
It was raining again in Portland.
The rain was real. The bus stop was not.
Bright lights and a glistening Don Quixote waiting to appear. Lights wrapped in plastic and blocked streets.
The next day it was all gone but the bus stop.
Two guys with a flat bed truck drove up.
They took out the screws attaching it to the pavement and used a crane to lower it onto the back of the truck.
The following day even the fake bus stop was gone.
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