The Distant Summer
The rain fell in sheets, blurring the world into a gray smear. I drove. The windshield wipers chopped the air. Left. Right. Left. Right. A rhythmic thump against the glass. My hands gripped the steering wheel. White knuckles. I could not look away from the road. The road was a black ribbon. It stretched out before me. It went nowhere. It went everywhere. I was leaving. I had to leave. The phone...
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