Reto Caduff 

It is unnecessary to state this comes from a series called Road Trip; the feeling of driving through some summer night with the windows half-down into dawn is embedded:

The thick-limbed weight of waiting as humidity films the skin.

The lulling half-time found in shared space, motion and momentum.

Eyelids heavy with loneliness, with wind-whipped hair, with the world of trains and lightpoles smeared against the windows.

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