Driveyou7home Now

But one Thursday evening, after a conversation that felt more like a collision, I got in my car. No GPS. No plan. Just a half-tank of gas and a strange pull toward the highway.

Drive. You. 7. Home.

I hadn’t thought about that phrase in years. But there it was, floating up through the dark like a lifeline. driveyou7home

When I was seventeen, my grandfather would say that before every road trip: “Drive you seven home” — his old-country way of saying take the long way back, the way that lets you breathe before you arrive. But one Thursday evening, after a conversation that