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Imagine it as your own: You are not yet ten with a father young and full of life who drives a car of a certain peachy hue, unusual even in that bland pastel era of the 1950s.
Then suddenly, inexplicably, this young father sickens and dies, and the car is sold, and never again do you see a car that color. And then one day you do see one, and though you are older by 20 years than your father ever got to be all you can think is: “Here he is! Here he comes! He’s finally back!”
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