No Sergio, No Stelvio
@Lohdown
The first time it happened, I was hovering curbside—illegally—in the LAX arrivals area waiting for my betrothed to land. A backpacker sidled up alongside my passenger side on the diagonal. Our eyes met and she looked away—to the front of the car as she walked around it. I could see her brow furrow at the four-leaf clover on the fender and again when she saw the nose. Curiosity apparently satisfied, she
