Page 167 - Anonymous
P. 167
that when he pounds into her against his
car in the alley. They’re disgusting.
Sometimes I want to follow them, hurt
them, rid the world of them. Nobody
would know. I’ll just tamper with his
brakes.
I look at the thirty other tills lining
the front of the store and sigh. It is going
to be a busy morning. Saturday mornings
are a nightmare at the month-end.
Another day in my life.
