One 50-year reunion, two old girlfriends
It was threatening to rain; a sign from the heavens or something, I thought to myself as I climbed onto the class of 1962's parade float last weekend. A good sign, since in that part of Iowa, which is where I'm from, it hadn't rained in nearly two months. Crops burning up. Yearly farm incomes shrinking by the hour. Rain, finally.
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