Dear Dad:
I had the strangest dream yesterday. You were driving along, staring straight ahead at the road, not looking left or right. You were going along just over the speed limit, not enough to get busted, though. You were on SR 14 in Washington, just on the other side of the river from Oregon.
I was in a car, with my friend Ken, in his little red Corolla, and we were on SR 14 in Washington, too.
And you glanced at your fingernails, as if checking out a manicure or somethin’, and you slowly pulled away from us. All without looking over.
It was a funny dream.
…or was it?