I’m Not Sure My Neighbor, Crazy Dave, Is Crazy
We shook across the fence. I said, “Howdy.”
“I’m Dave,” he said. “People call me Crazy Dave. I worked thirteen years at Midas. I’m a prepper.”
His bonfire was warm, his beer cold, and his music loud.
None of that seemed crazy.
These days, neither does preparing for the apocalypse.