Call me old-fashioned. I shook my head, and it didn't make me dizzy to do it. As he was pushing through the crowd, back to the curb, he saw the police cordon forming. A low animal roar.
All of us—perhaps a third of the number who had been in the larger pen upstairs (downstairs?)—were hustled into a very tiny waiting cell with two benches. They appeared drunk, and there was a man with him. No, detective, this is the only copy, and I brought it here first. My fiance in college had dumped me because I wasn't white bread enough for his mother.
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