1963 chevy impala
i'm back. i did finally leave the house, and go to my mom's.
better half started blasting the room i was in with lysol, while i was trying to eat dinner. sense of smell is intricately locked in with sense of taste, and since i think lysol reeks of vomit, it was going to ruin my dinner, that he had so graciously walked uptown to get me. i was afraid the next step was that he was going to go stand behind his mother's wheelchair, with her in it, and draw a circle of salt around them, and start shouting, "thou shall not pass!"
seems the only thing we ever have difficulty with is coping with germs around his mother when we're ill and who would kick the other's ass—underdog vs mighty mouse.
everyone's fine, btw.
loved the color of this car, and how the light was hitting it.