The driver drove at a blinding speed across the road which was bumpier than my cousin's face, and I didn't have my seatbelt on. The winter air whistling through the wound-down window sounded mournful, like something deep in the earth shook, and nobody could feel it. Dangling a ciggerette outside, the voice of Anna Nalick bleeding through my earphones, singing Wreck Of The Day. It was such a surrealistic moment, so indescribably sullen.
...And then he came walking out of the Arrivals, and everything was OK again~
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