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Naked in the Hallway - Installment 4

The night I told Juliet was a Friday.  What I recall most is a feeling.  It was like those long distance road trips we took every summer as a kid.  Thirteen hours from Southern Florida to the Smokey Mountains of North Carolina.  When we hit the winding roads with the hairpin turns I knew we were getting closer.  The trees grew taller, the roads narrower.  There was no passing except for short straightaways intended for the brave or for vehicles with 6 cylinders. 

On the hairpin turns, my dad was a believer in the use of the low gears.  I held my breath when I saw him reach for our sedan's gear stick, certain one of these days he would throw it into reverse as we accelerated down the mountain.  It was during these stretches that I'd move to the middle of the backseat so that I could look forward out the window and onto the road ahead.  I pretended I was driving, as I'd been told that's what I needed to do if I didn't want to become car sick. 

My eldest sister's stepdaughter was a year younger than I.  She got carsick every time we drove those winding roads.  We'd have to pull over so she could vomit on the narrowest of shoulders, that is, until we discovered Dramamine.  I didn't know what it was exactly, but I knew that's what you called the round band aid they placed behind her ear.  The vomiting ended but not the moaning.  The moaning is what got her the best seat in the car.  Meanwhile, I smushed my cheek against the door window so I could look at the road ahead through the narrow space to the side of the headrest. 

==== that's all I have time for today.  But what is the next sentence? 

I loved and dreaded those trips. 

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