Circling back to the fall, hues of Autumn painted in the trees, fallow fields flashing by, counting down miles, counting down time.
Hands on the steering wheel holding tight, passing cars passing me, thinking too much, trying not to think at all. Moving things around my mind.
Brisk, cold wind pushes against the car with me inside. Foot on the gas with eyes straight ahead. Strength beyond metal and the motion of the road. I will go only in the direction I will go.
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