Alexis Hogan-Short Story

This dirt covered track is quickly becoming to damp for my liking. The trees outside move in a kind of hypnotic dance, pushed by the winds who sing the same ancient tune they have sung for countless lifetimes. Rain spills down over the view and ice frosts the already foggy glass, making the world outside look infinitely bleaker and colder. The girl warms the car with her chatter, discussing family, travel plans and her worries about the young girl she left behind. She is constantly moving her hands, and she continues to glance back at me to ensure I’m still listening She promises to drop me off outside Cologne, where I can catch a plane. As we slowly drift into silence, I notice a small picture peeking out from the underside of her rust coloured seat. In it, she is laughing, her rust coloured hair tossed over her shoulder and her cerulean eyes clearly averted to someone outside the frame. All at once, I realize I know this girl.

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