i watched the dust settle. the car was well down the windy gravel road by now, yet my feet stayed firmly planted. glancing down, i realized the plane ticket i clutched was trembling - not from the wind, but from my shaking hand. i casually stuffed the ticket into my jacket pocket.
i should've burned it. one less memory. one less rope tying me up.
i mean, who wants to go to des moines anyway?
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