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Her little front legs were beating the air while she danced on her hinds. “You know what that means? I need to change clothes.” One thing Dag had ...lways insisted on was professional wear in the office. I know. It’s my office now. I can dress however I want. I went upstairs and changed from ripped jeans into a pair of wool slacks and a sweater. Casual Saturday. Or as Dag would say, ‘Weekends and holidays are days I don’t wear a tie to the office.’We stopped at Tovoni’s and I had my espresso. In the end, Mike Sinclair was destined to live out a much quieter, although not necessarily happier, existence. As the semester following his father’s death passed by, Mike’s hatred was tempered by the coins he was stealing every day from the parking meters at DSU. The weeks and months passed and Mike continued raiding his employer’s meters unabated. He had money, and to have money was to have a sense of empowerment. He hated the system, but he had found a way to beat it.There was another. More

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