I Know Compass vs. the Bell

It was too cold to be good for her, so we got into the car. She was a bell, formed and toned in hacienda Virginia. To me, she was north because I knew her in Michigan. But her body was set to south like a broken radio. Despite layers of clothing, her core temperature kept dropping into perpetual shivers. In the car I stripped off my hat and coat, then turned the heater on full. Her shivers soon became a toll driving on the deserted mountain highway in search of a compass. Several times we stopped for deer, rabbit, and raccoon crossings. She told me we went the wrong way and now we were lost in an Allegheny safari. I only believed her when she started to sweat.

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