The snakes

Raking blueberries summer of 81, I’m with some guys who find that there is a pit of snakes under the body of this old car rotting in the ground. We all got on to the side of this old Chevy, expecting to roll it over. Everyone else lets go and steps back and I end up with the car on my lap, alone, yelling to get it off.
Lost the rubber pegs of my crutches in the mud at a jamboree the next night.

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