Slushy rain splattered our windshield on our way east through frozen blueberry farms to the doctor's. The flush red twiggy plants, bare to the cold air, stuck in blank snowy rows that we flipped like pages as we passed. Each fruit and leaf had earlier been picked by winter's chill. Similarly we passed mowed corn fields, beheaded like statues, chopped as a pine forest for lumber. Tall stood
their silos, unknown to me if filled or empty. The dark windows of empty restaurants whizzed by us, and certainly everyone else.
Inside our foggy windows, Rachel whistled and I hummed. Although outwardly cheery, inwardly our energy sapped. After all, it's the first day of Lent; today's physical exam entailed a blood test for which we were required to fast.
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