I felt as if I were Kerouac. The snow had been falling for some time and the trees were heavy with frost. It was beautiful. My head hurt a little, from too many drinks and an excess of cigarette and marijuana smoke the night before. She rode next to me and they were in the back. She wasn't talking much, not feeling all to well. It showed in her face. It didn't have that charm, or the shine it usually does. For some reason it made me sad. Not the fact that she felt ill, but the fact that there...