

Waiting, On A Foggy EveningI slumped down into the itchy seat of the car, and pushed in the radio dial. Static, twist, Vietnamese station, twist, Mexican station, nothing. I pushed it in again, giving up on the music of which would change my mood. The stale air on the inside of the car was screaming for freeness from this metallic and glass prison. I rolled down the manual window, and felt a rush of cold air on my face. I zipped up my faded black jacket, hoping to deter the coldness that possessed my being, not that it would matter in the end. Up to this point, loneliness was only a fear that I would obsess on. Now it seemed to be a regular. I began playing with the loWaiting, On A Foggy Evening
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