I limped out of the Emergency Room. A Kermit-the-frog-colored Volkswagen Camper Van was idling by the curb. It looked to be late ‘60s vintage. The rusty tailpipe blew little puffs of black smoke, which smelled like cancer. The passenger window was open. I leaned in and said, “Whoa! Where’d you score the groovy wheels?”
“I… I borrowed it,” D.D. said. In t…
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