Back Roads

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It's getting to that point in the year where I haven't been home for six months, and I'm getting antsy. My mind turns to driving pitch-black roads lined with evergreens, watching snow fly at the wind-shield like a vortex. Roads I've driven a million times before. When I'm falling asleep at night I imagine myself driving these roads, not wanting to forget their twists and turns, their specific geography. These back roads exist everywhere, but it's those specific paths that my mind turns to when I'm missing that familiar kind of wilderness.
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