By J.B. Heaton
It was nearly midnight as I drove to her house after a delayed flight and a long line at the rental car counter. I put down the driver’s side window in hopes that the December air might keep me alert. California had legalized marijuana the month before, and the smell of weed was in the air as I drove slowly up her street looking for house numbers. Then I saw a porch light on a few houses ahead. I was tired; it was nearly 2:00 a.m. back home. My contact lenses were dry after the flight, and my vision was getting bad. It was a good thing that I was finally here.
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