I Drove Three Hours To Surprise My Mother—Then I Saw My Husband’s Car

for fifteen years because it still ran fine.

Curiosity pulled me toward it like a magnet. I parked near the house but didn’t go inside. Instead, I walked across the yard, past the chicken coop where my childhood chickens used to peck and cluck, toward that incongruous splash of bright blue.

I walked closer, my shoes crunching on the gravel and dirt.

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