Cassie’s Wet Dreams: Woodstock, August 16-17, 1969
We are stardust. We are golden. We are billion-year-old carbon. And we’ve got to get ourselves back to the garden.
Cassie saw a space on the side of the road, thanked the heavens, and pulled over and parked. After driving all the way from Boston, her VW Beetle was threatening to overheat, and she did not want to get stuck blocking this traffic. She got out of the car, shook out her mane of wavy red hair, and shielded her green eyes from the setting sun. The line of cars stretched out of sight in both directions. Route 17B was jammed....