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Austin Nights


Since those early days we have become Austinites and Austin N ights has become
alt lit.
I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.
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AUSTIN NIGHTS
*****
3.
Today is April 1 st , and I just finished recording a 4:01 video to celebrate the
moment. Bridget is driving the white Silverado packed to the hilt with the stuff
we couldn’t do without: our home.
We’re driving a long way. Miami Beach was death defying, but we have to leave
now, leave the giant ocean with its therapeutic sands and salts for no less than five
years.
Austin will be our new stomping ground. We’re driving there as I write. Bridget
has both hands on the wheel. Sometimes there’s a large iced latte between her
legs.
I find the mixture of caffeine and inner thighs more stimulating than just caffeine.
Goosebumps from the iciness of her refreshment riddle her flesh. I reach over and
grab the cup without asking for a sip. She doesn’t make a sarcastic remark.
“Thanks,” I say, lingering when I put the iced latte back between her legs.
She raises her eyebrows high abo ve her Tri-Rail sunglasses and says, “Good, isn’t
it?”
“Very.”
I slide her iPhone into the passenger door pocket and look at the familiar I-95
North scenery. Nothing has changed really, not in the four years I’ve lived in
South Florida at least.
“What a beautiful day,” says Bridget, her window rolled down.
The highway and air sound loud outside. She has to shout everything to be heard.
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