by Brittany Ackerman Garbriel Mom and I are in the car. I’m wearing my brown and white fleece jacket (my mom has the same one, but bigger, the adult version) and I drink my box of Hershey’s chocolate milk. We exit the garage of our apartment and drive into the grey daylight. She turns the corner. There is a straightaway looking out at the Hudson River. I’m still groggy from sleep, not a morning child, only soothed by my milk box whispering, deflating as I drink. My Velcro sne