A rainy evening, followed by wide open, dark skies had brushed the car's panels with a frozen wave motive, patterned by Esher. I chipped and scraped at the glaze to the warming hum of the engine.
A kiss, applied by a retreating trick-or-treater to the driver's glass, is almost gone after a half dozen spongings and a scrape. None-the-less, sitting there I still feel loved, whatever the intention, noticing that lipstick makes good anti-freeze.
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