All That Mattered

It was a quiet night. I had a bit of a drive back into Gainesville. I had just taken Clara’s photos, and I was feeling pensive and inspired, reflective and content. The power lines streaming by were hypnotizing and comforting, with no beginning and no end.

It was dusk, the moon was full, and Mumford and Sons were the soundtrack to my thoughts.

I don’t remember what I was thinking about, but I’ll never forget how I felt. Excited, but about nothing in particular. Butterflies in my stomach, like something important was about to happen. And just content, like the purple sky, brilliant moon, and flowing power lines were all that mattered.


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