Friday, September 24, 2010

From One Day to the Next

It's hot, sunny, a feel-good ninety degrees. The windows are down, a breeze is blowing. My hair is pulled back, sunglasses on. Creedence is caressing my ears. I'm cruising down a curvy back road along with the smell of woodsmoke.

It's wet, foggy, a sticky seventy-five degrees. The windows are at the half way mark, everything is still. My hair is down, no sunglasses on. Bad Company is blasting in my ears. I'm cruising down a curvy back road along with my thoughts of yesterday.

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