Intoxicated by Infusion

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For a moment, I am intoxicated, losing focus as snow falls on the road before me like grated Parmesan cheese.

Infusing my nostril hairs with goodness, the smell of flour and yeast fill my car. For a second, I am no longer aware of my surroundings and my instinct is to slow down or pull over.

But instead, I continue, around the corner, driving drunk on wafts of fresh bread, as the taste lingers on my tongue.

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