I was in Wisconsin, in 1967. I owned three junky cars, a '58 Fairlane, a '42 Ford truck and a '52 Ford that were parked out at the end of a three mile path. One night, after I had a couple drinks of whiskey, I was walking down the path just to get some fresh air. I swear on my grandfather's grave that the headlights on each of the vacant cars flashed on. I heard an engine rumble.It was impossible for any of these decrepit cars to be running, considering all three were severely damaged. I ran for my life, and after running all the way home, I realized there was nothing chasing me, even though the rumbling of the engines seemed to be five feet away. To this day I have feared junky cars.
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