“I had a dream last night that we were in the backseat of a car being driven through some frozen blue-stained nowhere, you, me, and marc hug. we could see our breath and there were empty wine bottles on the floor. you took off my glove and held my hand.”
“kind of an interesting opening paragraph for a story. did we make it out alive?”
“I don’t think we were trying to get away. We were cold, but content. It was like The Ice Storm, but with no bodies drifting down the highway.”
dc
