After the last child had left on the last bus, she unlatched the roof of her Cabriolet, revealing faded upholstery bleached out by twenty-two years of joyriding. Jerry Garcia cooed from the tiny speakers at her feet, but his voice got lost in the warm winds that threatened to blow the entire car back into town. She lit a cigarette behind the windshield, carefully steering with her knees until the tip of the thing glowed, and then she was on the interstate, destination: wherever. In September, she’d tell the kids she spent her summer catching up with the reading list.
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Title by: Bernice McFadden
Story by: Nick
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