I recall our summers cut horizontally in two, the blue, blue sky contrasting the never-ending hills of gold. And we drove memories into existence with every careless mile in a car that we named and re-named, but it never stuck. It was brown and ugly, the Jeggarmeister sticker becoming one with the rusting bumper. It was too good for a name. Our
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I want to know all of this in clearer terms. Expect a call soon.
I miss those summers.
PS; Congrats about the paper. Have I read it?
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Good luck this year, I hope we stay in touch.
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