Sinister Sunday Drive

Tara enjoyed Sunday evening drives. I was getting sick of driving in the winter chill. Not even the light forecasted snowflakes slapping the windshield could deter us from the drive. We’d follow the winding, thick-frosted forest paths on the outskirts of Yakima. Unlike the city, the air was fresh. Tara grew up in an adventurous, outdoorsy household. I’d lived in the city most of my life, so this stuff intrigued me. I’d spent a year getting to know Tara. She pulled me in with her boisterous appeal. Our dissimilarities pulled us closer, captivating our curiosity and building ties through a mutual love for being in each other’s presence. Our differences paled compared to our connection. We loved the same music and watched the same horror movies as we were one person immersed in a new culture. (Sample)

(Edited by an editor at

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