Like pea soup. The summer I was babysitting Mandy I'd pick up her mom's car at the bank and drive it across the river on those mornings, when the fog was so thick and so close around the compartment of the car, that I couldn't see anything. I don't remember how fast I drove. I only remember praying I'd get to the other side of the Missouri River without hurting anybody. And without hurting me.

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