Some notes from Florida
It’s unnatural to drive East. I get off the highway for gas, or I just don’t want to be on the highway. I get back to the onramps—East or West—and automatically choose West. West is the correct direction. My brain knows this. My DNA knows this. Go West. But I’m going east, or have. About as far as I can go. I’ll head North next. We’ll see how my DNA feels about that.
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