Hayden

It's hot as fuck as I stand at the gas pump trying to get it to read my card. There must be something wrong with it, but my low gas light is on and I don't feel like calling and asking for help this afternoon.

Irritable from my day at work, I grab my purse and hoof it toward the store.

As I'm about to cross the parking lot, a truck with a too-loud exhaust system and a crude sticker on the back leaves in a flurry of squealing tires and rolling coal. Rolling my ...