The clothing drive

“Are you nuts?” Lanny hit the gas as soon as I piled back into the car. “Guess that makes two of us.” He shook his head as he turned down a sidestreet. “We’re down to stealing stuff off curbs. We officially suck.”

“Yeah, whatever.” I maneuvered the garbage bag between my legs and tore off the yellow donation card. Read it before I tossed it aside, in case the donor had listed the contents. No luck there. “Some kind of charity drive at the college.”

Lanny stilled. “Which…?” He stopped. Swallowed. “Which college, Wayne?”

I squinted. The print seemed to shift every time I focused on it. Damn, I needed glasses. “Miska—”

“Miskatonic?” Lanny jammed on the brakes. “We’re putting it back.” He shifted into reverse . “I’m turning around and going back to the house and you’re—”

“Don’t be an idiot. See?” I held up a grubby sweatshirt. “Clothes.” I swore under my breath as I dug through the bag. “All clothes.” I blinked away tears—my eyes stung as though I chopped onions. “Jeez, what a stink.”

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