It was a random Sunday in July when my traveling companion and I decided to write down a number of countries we might want to visit in the next year or so on little scraps of paper. We proceeded to toss said scraps of paper, maybe a couple dozen, into a Red Wings beanie. We then shook them all up and fished out three just to see what we’d get. We told ourselves beforehand that none of this was binding, but then gave each other simultaneous side-eye glances after saying so, as if to indicate that maybe we kinda wanted it to be, that perhaps maybe it was.
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