The longest drive, finally over; we get out of the car and into the crisp evening air.
3.5 hours of driving north along the Hudson River. You’re exhausted. I’m not sad, I swear. It’s time to move forward.
You squeeze my hand and I feel the crackle of the turning leaves under my feet.
I fumble with the house keys.
So many keys. Which one is it again?
The house is warm and sweet, with furniture older than us. The firs around us make the house almost too secluded for us city kids.
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