To the Pow

By: Amy Ball

Phil drives the rental; he’s Canadian and knows how to drive in the snow. I’m
assigned to navigation, music, and snacks, which I take seriously. First song: On the
Road Again by Willie Nelson.
“NO road trip is sanctioned unless this is the first song that is played.”
“Sanctioned? By whom?”
“Saint Ziggie, guardian of road trips. Obvs.”
“Obviously.” Eye roll.
“Left here for—wait, do you want kilometers or miles?”
He grins. “Metric, ‘Merican.”
I flip the settings on my app. “247 kilometers.”
The assortment of snacks in the center console ranges from sweet to salty to I-have-
no-clue-what-this-is-but-we’re-in-Japan-so-fuck-it.
“Yukō!”

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