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THE SHOPLIFTER 5 2
At two forty five in the middle of the night my Mustang quietly drifted backward out of the driveway into the dark. I had somehow changed into shorts and a sweater. I was physically sick as I drove. Several times I thought I would have to stop and vomit. The streets were empty. Traffic lights were mostly blinking yellow. My head spun so badly I feared going off onto the sidewalk several times. Finally, I manage to get down to the hood. Here everything was wide awake. Bobby’s street was...