Caucasian Crap

With a nudge and a yawn-smothering smirk Jeremy pokes me in the ribs and tells me-wake uuup- as I ironically continue to drive and he awakens from traveler's daze. Always his way- deflect the obvious by that distracting charm. Even after 18 years I was not immune to it. The fact of which he remained well aware.

Approaching the Animus River-crossing in Durango, we had made a good way toward our destination: Telluride, up-mountain. "Tride" to the familiars, Olympus to the low-lander

caucasian crap

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