Stories, Writing

A Half Hour into My day on a Thursday Morning on a Florida Highway

It’s 9:20 in the morning. At this point I have been awake for 19 minutes. I am in the car, listening to country music, and I have already broken a sweat. Its 87 degrees outside. Its 9:20 in the morning. Katie sings along quietly in the seat next to me. She is wearing a maroon tank top that belongs me. A maroon tank top that on me is as tight as skin, but sits loosely on her bony shoulders and bunches around her skinny waist. its dark red and her white skin come together almost violently.  ...

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