Authors: Thomas Laird
Sh
e
stop
s
a
t
a
leathe
r-
good
s
outle
t.
Sh
e
i
s
no
t
read
y
t
o
g
o
ye
t,
the
n.I
sto
p
i
n
fron
t
o
f
a
chai
n
bookstor
e
s
o
I
don’
t
ge
t
to
o
clos
e
t
o
he
r.
Sh
e
hasn’
t
spotte
d
m
e
ye
t
.
Th
e
brunett
e
i
s
i
n
th
e
booter
y
fo
r
twent
y
minute
s.
Ther
e
i
s
nothin
g
lef
t
fo
r
m
e
t
o
perus
e
i
n
th
e
bookstore’
s
windo
w,
an
d
th
e
crowd
s
i
n
thi
s
mal
l
hav
e
thinne
d
almos
t
t
o
zer
o.
I
t
i
s
tim
e
sh
e
mad
e
he
r
mov
e
t
o
th
e
lo
t
.
Whic
h
i
s
wha
t
happen
s
onl
y
tw
o
minute
s
late
r.
Th
e
brownhaire
d
woma
n
exit
s
vi
a
th
e
fron
t
doo
r
an
d
make
s
a
beelin
e
fo
r
th
e
parkin
g
lo
t.
Sh
e
goe
s
bac
k
u
p
t
o
th
e
secon
d
leve
l,
an
d
I
a
m
righ
t
behin
d
he
r
.
Thi
s
on
e
ha
s
he
r
bes
t
feature
s
behin
d
he
r.
N
o
tit
s
tha
t
I
ca
n
mak
e
ou
t.A
pleasan
t
enoug
h
fac
e,
bu
t
nothin
g
extraordinar
y.
She’
d
b
e
workabl
e
i
f
I
ha
d
th
e
tim
e
t
o
tak
e
pleasur
e
i
n
m
y
jo
b,
bu
t
th
e
whol
e
scenari
o
o
f
a
parkin
g
lo
t
put
s
a
numbe
r
o
f
restriction
s
o
n
wha
t
I
ca
n
an
d
can’
t
d
o
.
Whe
n
I
wal
k
ou
t
th
e
doo
r
o
n
th
e
secon
d
leve
l,
righ
t
behin
d
he
r,I
se
e
tha
t
i
t
ha
s
begu
n
t
o
rai
n.
Rai
n
i
s
a
sig
n
o
f
goo
d
fortun
e.
Poo
r
visibilit
y,
nobod
y
fuck
s
aroun
d
b
y
thei
r
car
s.
The
y
ge
t
i
n,
the
y
ge
t
ou
t.
Whic
h
i
s
wha
t
almos
t
everyon
e
ha
s
alread
y
don
e.
Th
e
lo
t
i
s
almos
t
deserte
d
a
s
sh
e
walk
s
towar
d
he
r
Chev
y
Cavalie
r.
I
t
i
s
a
ne
w
mode
l,
appear
s
t
o
b
e
blac
k.
Sh
e
i
s
middl
e-
clas
s
bu
t
think
s
o
f
hersel
f
a
s
sport
y.
There’
s
a
whit
e
racin
g
strip
e
acros
s
th
e
sid
e
o
f
th
e
ca
r
.
Sh
e
i
s
als
o
al
l
alon
e
i
n
thi
s
secto
r
o
f
th
e
lo
t.
Th
e
light
s
ar
e
o
n,
bu
t
th
e
drivin
g
rai
n
keep
s
everyone’
s
hea
d
dow
n,
i
n
th
e
othe
r
section
s,
a
s
the
y
rac
e
towar
d
thei
r
ride
s.
Th
e
brunett
e
i
s
strugglin
g
wit
h
he
r
key
s.
Can’
t
see
m
t
o
fin
d
th
e
loc
k
o
n
th
e
ca
r
doo
r.
I’
m
te
n
pace
s
behin
d
he
r,
an
d
sh
e
stil
l
hasn’
t
hear
d
m
e
comin
g.
Th
e
rai
n
i
s
no
w
accompanie
d
b
y
thunde
r
.
Finall
y
sh
e
engage
s
th
e
loc
k
an
d
th
e
doo
r
i
s
flun
g
ope
n.
I’
m
thre
e
pace
s
fro
m
he
r
lovel
y
as
s
.
Sh
e
scoot
s
int
o
th
e
driver’
s
sea
t,
an
d
I’v
e
go
t
m
y
lef
t
han
d
insid
e
th
e
gy
m
ba
g
I
carr
y
wit
h
m
e.
I’v
e
go
t
th
e
ethe
r
no
w,
an
d
I’
m
gettin
g
th
e
bottl
e
an
d
th
e
balle
d-
u
p
T-
shir
t
ou
t
a
s
sh
e
i
s
abou
t
t
o
clos
e
th
e
doo
r
.