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Maybe we should have thought it strange for a student and her professor to go on a road trip, but you are only eight years older than I am, and you so often seem younger, even with all those acronyms after your name. Especially when you drove down Highway 9 in your red Mazda Miata with the top down, singing to Janis Joplin at the top of your lungs. I swear you didn’t care where we were going. You just loved the wind and the road, the sensation that we were moving somewhere.
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