The traffic on 128 has slowed to a crawl.
I turned on the car radio, switching stations
until I found one playing "The Little Drummer Boy".
The car windows kept fogging over inside.
My mother rubbed them with her mittens.
The heater in her car wasn't working.
I reached for the blanket in the back seat.




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Uncle Roger File 3: Terminals by Judy Malloy
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