He focused on his leg muscles, his form, his speed. I was not like that. I looked around and admired, meandered and felt pangs of love. When we stopped, usually at the crest of long inclines, I asked, “Weston, how amazing was that barn?” “What barn?” “How did you miss it? It was huge and right on the road. So amazing, falling apart, leaning to its left. I can’t believe it’s still standing!” “I didn’t see it.” In the evening, we would buy bottles of beer and sit around the campfire and talk. Weston was always talking. “I am pushing myself more each day,” he’d say. “I am a student of my own
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Remi dsme of isaac
