We passed through Dixon hurriedly as the wind dragged us across the highway, the car windows breathing, ice wheels wheezing
We opened the window just to live dangerously and feel the cold on our cheeks
After two ours of driving home in a snowstorm we arrived home dead beats ready to sleep
And now all I remember is the dream of white linen sheets wrapping us blindly, static in the fabric made all the brightness cling to us
A glimpse of the river and we knew we'd be home soon.
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