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It was 365 days ago on the calendar, a thousand years ago in my heart. I never imagined the road could ever feel so beyond reach. The road trip is the simplest of adventures, requiring a tank of gas, a backpack, a dog, and the correct frame of mind (which is to say, no frame at all). What you see is what you get on the road, and that's all I've ever needed. But now the back roads are no longer innocent avenues for exploration; they are paths that would bring me into contact with folks who might rather not see me. And so I wait—with impatience on the best days and with despair on the rest.

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Memories of May
May 2020