An Unnamed Letter
Sneakers, labels, and bonding with strangers. Plus, Lenny Kravitz and Spuds MacKenzie.
My driver kept looking down at my feet, which were resting on the passenger side floor of his car. Dirty from days of hiking, I worried he was annoyed I’d just traipsed soil and muck all over his very clean sedan. It smelled of cherry air freshener and had some protection cushion on the dashboard. Jockeying my paranoia even further, he dodged an oncomin…