I drove to her house trying to remember what her voice sounded like.
I've heard it a few times before but I wasn't wrapped into like I was now.
I forgot to wear cologne.
Her town, I know it well, was a bit bigger than mine, but mostly on paper.
You could walk from one end to the other without ruining your nice shoes.
I wore my nice shoes.
"You sure you don't want me to drive?", the first thing she said to me.
All-wheel drive just makes more sense in the snow.
I refused, as you'd expect.
The words left her lips but I did not recognize the tone. It was raspier than I'd remembered.
In fact, I don't remember it being raspy at all.
She laughed to herself and got into my car. She trusted something about me.
Our night began and ended on a positive note.
In fact, it didn't end at all actually.
Morning was comforting too. No hangover, no awkwardness, just two people wrapped up.
In fact, we were wrapped up, tangled, intertwined.
She couldn't stop giggling because of the six degrees of separation that hardly separated us.
"Girl, we gotta go, you're gonna be late."
"Boy, hit the snooze alarm one more time."
She buried her head into my chest, curls in my face, feet freezing.
We were shaking but we luckily had the open window to blame.
Thursday, November 15, 2012
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