Southern Comfort
By St. Bobo. Summer in the South was always unpleasant: hot, humid, and with very little to do. It wasn’t that I liked college. No eighteen-year-old does. It was just that, without college, I was the only guy my age living in my town. It was an old mining town, but the mine had moved on, leaving a small cluster of old houses and a few tired old stores on the main street. The highway no longer passed through, so
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