I get to see Mark and Luke, they got back this week. It seems like only a day ago that I left them in the humidly of Hanoi and climbed aboard that plane, at the airport at the end of that crazy freeway - cars, bikes, trucks, buses, pigs, goats, water buffalo, all jockeying for position, all tooting non-stop. Mark and Luke said that the humidity cranked up to nearly 100%, after I left, which they found hard to deal with. They were please to be leaving it. So, it's time for me to shimmy out of the city tangle and head to the wide open, cool spaces of the country, to see my boys.
It's raining. It's nice driving in the rain; the pitter-patter of the water drops, the slap, slap of the window wipers across my face, the soulful hum of the CD filling the cabin, the cocoon of the dashboard lights, encapsulated, slipping along the black surface of the freeway, to the open spaces, fresh air and the blue, blue sky.
It was nice hugging the two of them in my arms. It was nice seeing their happy faces. It was nice to hear their voices.
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