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A Letter To Shamanda
Tonight I was driving on that meandering two-lane highway south of Yachats when the wet of winter was suspended as the clouds broke and the night sky winked at me through the windshield.
Like a soundtrack to my life, that rising, raw, half-scream, half-wail from ‘All My Mistakes’ – the one that hit you at just the right moment, it played right there at the turnout to Cape Perpetua.
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