Or longing, or the sting or the difference between out and our is one keystroke.
Driving north for a long time today. Leaving Columbus in the rearview for a while. Some good music, some podcast and some stretches of highway--my old mind-righting techniques. The skies are white and the cold that is doesn't promise a promise to be worth-it warmer tonight. But things are sweetening and for that, I drive and bring lunch to a sick friend and remember how good it all felt and feels and will feel again. I mean winter, words, this pretty little life that I love too much and for all the best reasons.
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